Darkest Hour:
An Until Dawn Collaboration
Chapter 8:
Unrecognizable
a/n: Aaaaaand we're back to the present. Sorry for the delay - we took a hiatus but we're back and determined to finish this fic. BTW most of the next chapter is already done, too. So look out.
Three Weeks After Dawn - Washington House - Hannah & Sam
"Haaaaannnnaaaah…"
The soft, playful trill of Sam's voice caused Hannah to stir in her bed, pulling her from some indiscernible dream. She groaned, rolling into her pillows and away from the intrusion. The bed bowed, and Hannah could feel it bend to the weight of Sam climbing up beside her. She smiled to herself, realizing that for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn't have a reason to be afraid. She had wished for this moment over and over again in that cold, abandoned asylum; to sleep in on a Saturday under a flurry of blankets and pillows, awakened by her best friend, just like the way it had been before. When things had been simpler.
"Hannah-banana," Sam tried again, searching for her within the goosedown and satin. "Wakey-wakey," she coaxed, as though she were trying to awaken a sleeping toddler for preschool.
"Five more minutes," Hannah's muffled voice replied.
"Don't make me come in there," Sam threatened, slipping under the blankets and sidling up to her best friend and pulling the blankets up over their heads. They laid under the sheets, and Hannah turned to her side, facing her with sleep still in her eyes. "Morning, sunshine," Sam greeted with a bright, beaming grin.
"What are you doing here?" Hannah asked flatly, but her lips still curved up in a smile.
"You've… you've been sleeping for four days," Sam noted, and Hannah gave a bit of a shrug. She couldn't help but feel ever so slightly defensive.
"So? I've been through a bit of an ordeal…" she reasoned, and it was almost an inarguable point.
"I know," Sam said quickly. Hannah would have said more, but Sam's eyes told her that it wasn't so much that she needed Hannah to be okay as much as it was that Sam just wanted to be with her best friend. "Just… checkin' in."
"Have you talked to my brother again?" Hannah asked suddenly, and Sam opened her mouth to speak, her eyebrows creased together in a look of guilt before she simply closed her mouth and shook her head slowly. She hadn't spoken to Josh since their fiery argument at the hospital.
"Why not?" Hannah's voice curled into a bit of a beg.
It felt like it took a full minute before Sam flatly replied, "do I seriously have to answer that for you, Hannah?" Sam knew that Hannah had always worn rose-colored glasses when it came to her big brother, but it was hard not to be slightly put off by her seemingly constant defense of him, considering all he'd done to her that night. Some things Hannah didn't even know. While she thought of spilling it all then and there, she decided against it. Hannah had already been through enough. If she needed to live in some sort of alternate reality where Josh wasn't a monster, then so be it.
"You talk to Mike?" Sam asked lowly, switching the heat off of herself. Hannah tilted her head back with a loud, 'ha!'
"Fuck no-"
"Hannah," Sam groaned.
"I don't have anything to say to him," Hannah said definitively, her mouth poised into a slight pout. "He's a tool," she added under her breath. Sam raised her eyebrows in slight surprise. "What?" Hannah snapped, wanting to know just what it was about this conversation that was warranting such an amused reaction from her best friend.
"No, no… nothing. I just never thought I'd hear you talk about the love of your life, Michael Munroe this way," she chirped dramatically, and Hannah just chuckled.
"Oh, shut up," she moaned embarrassedly with a light shove in Sam's shoulder.
"You were obsessed," Sam just giggled, and Hannah hid her blushing face behind her hands, groaning.
"I know, I don't know what my problem was."
"If it makes you feel any better, none of us did," Sam teased.
"It doesn't," Hannah chuckled, but then shook it off, "I really don't want to talk about Mike again, okay?" she requested, and what could Sam say to that other than okay? Hannah was adamant the topic was off the table.
"I missed you," Hannah said after a brief silence, a long-absent smile on her lips. Sam mirrored her.
"I missed you, too, Nan," she replied. "I'm so happy you're back. But… I think it's time for a shower. You smell...terrible." The girls erupted into a fit of laughter, and Hannah gave Sam another playful shove.
"You're such an ass." Hannah pushed the blankets from the two of them. They both jumped at the sound of Sam's phone chime. Sam dug it out of her pocket and rolled her eyes. "What? Who is it?" Sam rolled over on her back, reading the message on her phone. She glanced at Hannah sideways.
"Who do you think?"
"Mike?" Hannah asked curiously, and the both of them couldn't help but notice in way she sounded like she had a year and a half ago. Old habits were hard to quit, no matter how much she claimed she hated him now.
"What? No," Sam snorted, shaking her head. "Plus even if it was, we don't talk about him anymore, right?
"Right," Hannah agreed immediately. "So who is it?"
"It's your stupid brother. He must sense I'm with you… I thought he was in that medical facility? He can use his phone there?" Hannah shrugged.
"I mean, since when has Josh ever adhered to any rules?" Hannah had her there. If he wasn't sneaking his phone then the Washington's definitely bribed someone to let him have it. "What does it say?" Hannah chuckled, peering over Sam's shoulder at her phone. Sam squinted at the screen, shaking her head absently.
"Nothing. It's... just a bunch of emojis… sad face, broken heart, pizza, smiley with sunglasses and…"
Hannah narrowed her eyes to see better without her glasses, "Is that a poop emoji?"
"Nice." Sam nodded and folded her lips. She shook her phone at her friend. "Seriously, Hann. Nothing about my last conversation with him should make him think it's okay to be texting me right now."
"What was your last conversation about?" Hannah queried, stepping out of her bed with a stretch. Sam got up too, walking towards the blinds to let the sunshine in and opening the window to air out the room. Hannah hissed at the light stinging her eyes - it was an odd feeling after three straight days of being shut off in the dark.
She tried not to look at the long line of news vans, still camping out along the road in front of the Washington residence. She had craftily avoided most of them for the last three weeks, and the phone calls begging for an exclusive interview had somewhat died down, but she knew they were waiting like vultures to get the inside scoop at any cost.
"Just… stuff. How I'm apparently an awful person…" Sam replied sarcastically. Hannah tied her hair up on top of her head, limping over towards the end of the bed, her cast clunking against the wooden floors.
"Why?" she prodded, grabbing the blankets and lifting them up high, fanning them out smoothly over her mattress.
"I know that it sounds really weird but he had some very strange logic that weirdly kinda made sense… no matter how fucked it really was," she said with a half-hearted shrug. Hannah turned towards Sam before plopping down at the end of her bed. "I guess… I guess he really liked me and I didn't even know it."
"Ohhhh, Sam," she sighed. "Yes you did." Sam looked back at her friend, at first offended, and then a little bit guilty.
Of course she knew.
Hannah went on, "Do you…do you remember that time during junior year when Josh pranked Steven Garrett for standing you up for winter formal?" Sam cocked her head to the side, her hands on her hips.
"That is not why he pranked him. He pranked Steven Garrett because he ratted on him for selling cigarettes in the bathroom at school," Sam corrected. Hannah nodded.
"True, that was part of it. But Josh was just gonna let that go. Then Steven stood you up, and you were so bummed out and you and I skipped winter formal and hung out here instead. While Josh was there, he saw Steven came with Jennifer Coogan instead. So Josh broke into Steven's precious car and poured milk all over the floor and hid eggs in the glove compartment…" At this point Sam was giggling again.
"Steven was so mad when he found that rotting egg later…"
"Josh did that for you," Hannah clarified, and Sam took in a staggered breath before giving her an acknowledging nod. "I know he doesn't always show it in the best way but… Josh means well. He cares a lot deeper about everything than a lot of people know. I always wondered how it must feel to feel things as deep and as raw as he does," she explained. "He cares about you a lot, Sam. I just don't think he has ever known the appropriate way to show it."
"Maybe you're right," Sam considered, although the hurt and anger inside of her towards him didn't feel any less at the notion. It was like saying the boy who pushed her down on the playground did it because he liked her. It seemed like sound logic, but it still didn't take the pain away.
"Of course I am," Hannah said, nodding her head in a proud way. "Now if I could just get him to talk to me when he gets back. He was totally tethered from reality back on the mountain. I don't think he even processed that it's really me."
"Is he at least doing well at the hospital?" Sam wondered despite herself as she fluffed one of Hannah's pillows. She tossed it to the head of the bed.
"Yeah… He'll actually be back in about a week." Both girls were slightly shaken by the fact that it had already almost been a month since But according to mom the doctor said it will take a little time before he starts acting normal again-" Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes. "What?"
"Define 'normal' when referring to Josh…" she said under her breath but loud enough for Hannah to hear. Before Hannah could defend him again, the smile on her face let Hannah know she meant no harm. She grabbed ahold of Sam's hand, yanking her down to sit on the edge bed beside her. She hoisted her heavy, casted leg back up on the bed with a groan. It was starting to ache, which made Sam worry about her friend's comfort. "You okay?" Hannah nodded through a painful hiss, but then she got herself as comfortable as she could.
"Speaking of hospitals… Did you know Josh has been seeing a shrink since he was 11?" Hannah asked Sam suddenly.
"Yeah, it was after that incident at the school. He like, really hurt a teacher. And then he kinda got passed from therapist to therapist and tried a whooooole bunch of different medications-" Sam began to ramble off casually, unaware that Hannah was completely caught off guard by all this information.
"Sheesh... since when did you become an expert on all things Josh?" Hannah asked, and she couldn't subdue the slight jealousy over Sam knowing these things about her own brother when she didn't. Sam's eyes rose to Hannah's apprehensive face as she tucked some hair behind her ear nervously; she wasn't trying to make Hannah feel any more displaced than she already felt. Coming back and trying to get back to a 'normal' life after what she'd just endured for the last year must have been hard. She probably didn't want to hear the details about how everyone went on with their lives without her.
"Oh, no… sorry, I just…" Sam sputtered, taking in a wavering breath. "Josh and I… after you guys went missing, we sorta got close." Hannah's eyes lit up a bit, a sly smile aching to cross her lips. Sam always loved how animated Hannah's face was - she'd forgotten that.
"So I'm noticing… but do you mean close like… close close?" she teased with an elbow jab to Sam's side. Sam blushed and squirmed out of Hannah's reach, giggling a bit. "Are you trying to marry into the fam?" Sam's smile faded a bit when Hannah said that.
"I don't think so," Sam replied wistfully. Hannah eyed her friend, unsure to push farther or let it be. Sam wasn't the most forthcoming when it came to her feelings and Hannah knew better than to make her feel like she was backed into a corner.
"I… I liked him too, Hannah," Sam finally admitted. She growled and rolled her eyes at herself as soon as she heard the words leave her lips. It sounded so weird to say it aloud. Hannah cocked an eyebrow at her friend, and Sam shook her head. "I mean, I think I did. I don't know what I feel anymore. We spent a lot of time together after you… you know. And I mean, I didn't let it get anywhere because we were both grieving and I wasn't even sure what it was. But… I at least thought he cared about me-"
An image of Josh in the psycho mask flashed across Sam's mind, the feeling of his hand gently cradling her head as his other hand securely held the gas mask to her face, the feeling of slowly losing consciousness as her heart beat rapidly and she truly resigned to the fact that she was in fact going to die.
And then, a flash of the way she felt while she watched him get sliced in half at the belly, and the regret that sat in the pit of her stomach for never telling him how she felt about him before. It was all far too confusing to sift through, those feelings of love and loathing, unsure which weighed more heavily on her heart at this moment.
For now, it mostly just felt sad.
Longing.
"Whatever," Sam sighed, waving off her own inner turmoil. "It doesn't even matter. Josh is a nutcase, anywa-"
"Hey now," Hannah scolded quietly, her face downcast into frown. She sounded slightly wounded at Sam's harshness. She shook he head gently as she timidly added, "C'mon, don't call him that. I really don't think he ever meant to hurt you... He's just… he's sick, you know?"
"Yeah…" Sam replied, timidly chewing on her lip. Hannah didn't have to tell her how sick Josh was. Sam had a very clear idea of just how sick he really was.
"But still… Josh did a lot of terrible things that night. There are things you don't even know about yet-"
"He's the only sibling I have," Hannah said very seriously. Sam exhaled through her nose, realizing that Hannah was not ready to hear the truth about that night - about her brother. Even if she did know, Sam couldn't bear the thought of her best friend defending him simply because he was the only sibling she had left.
"...You can't protect him, Hannah. He still has to get better, he still has to answer for what he's done," Sam tried to explain, but Hannah couldn't hear that right now.
"It's my fault, you know. If I had fought harder to get away… If I would have found a way home, he never would have gone crazy."
"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" Sam asked, but didn't allow her to answer. "Because this is not your fault. None of this last year was your fault, but especially things regarding Josh. If anything, it's mine. We spent so many nights together. I should have noticed something was wrong. I just… I didn't see it."
"Well, anyway, you know more than me, then. I didn't even know anything like that was going on with Josh the entire time we were growing up… And it makes me realize that maybe I never knew him at all, you know?"
Sam couldn't keep herself from thinking about that night, running scared for her life while Josh hid behind a mask.
Josh had always worn a mask.
They'd just never known it.
Sam didn't know him as well as she thought, either.
"...Yeah. I know."
Three Weeks After Dawn - Mike's Apartment - Mike Munroe
Scrolling through Beth's Facebook page made him angry.
People were still posting shit on it. All it took was for one person to make an empty "RIP Beth Washington. We all still miss you!" for everyone else to chime in.
As if they knew her.
As if their whole last year was even remotely affected by the loss of her. As if it made them feel better about themselves for taking two minutes out of their fucking social media filled pathetic life to type something to a dead girl.
Mike grinded his teeth. With his good hand, he held his phone, his thumb pushing against the screen brutally. He wanted to tell them all to go to hell. But instead, he grabbed the bottle neck of his beer and tipped it to his lips. He was already getting good at wrapping one finger around things to make everyday chores simple again. It wasn't so bad.
Some days, though, he would drop things and the raging pain that burned his insides made him want to chop off his hand at his wrist just to avoid learning how to use a hand with only a few fingers. There were times that he would sweep everything off the counters to the floor, just to listen to the loud crashing and shattering of objects that were once whole; just to fill the silence with anything that could stir his soul if only for a second.
He felt trapped and hopeless, and he wondered if this was how Josh had been feeling all year. Was he stuck inside of himself? Did his mind ever leave his body, only to torture himself more by not leaving, but instead staring at how broken he was? Did he look in the mirror and groan in deep distraught because he didn't recognize himself? Was he amazed at the raw pain he saw in his eyes because no living thing should be able to live with that much distress?
If Josh wasn't in recovery, Mike might have texted him to ask him these questions. Not that Josh would answer him. He would ignore him, just like everyone else was doing. Not that he wasn't to blame - he was ignoring everyone as well. The thought of seeing any of them made him feel too excited...as if they would be able to make this pain go away. But he didn't want it to go away.
He felt guilty if he stopped thinking about Beth for too long. She was too good to be forgotten. So his dilemma was to drink to forget her, and then despise himself for almost accomplishing it. He was never going to be able to win, but it was a loss he was proud of in a messed up way.
Mike finally came across one of the last photos Beth posted of herself on her page. Her held was tilted back, and Mike could literally feel the warm sun that embraced her face. She was alive. Happy. Had a best friend that would rope the moon for her and love her unconditionally for the rest of his life.
He recalled hearing a random fact in one of his college classes - something about men having shorter life spans than women. He brought it up to her later that day, saying that he was glad he would never have to live a moment without her because he was almost guaranteed to croak before her.
"Then I will celebrate fast and hard for my next and last five minutes of life, that I'm finally rid of you!" Beth had responded. Her confession did not go unnoticed to him, despite being mixed in with the playful insult.
He was suddenly overcome with a burning in his chest. The phone slipped through his fingers before he clenched the tight skin over his heart, tugging and pulling at the unmistakable pain of a broken heart and he just wished it would all end. He could hardly breathe, the air was too thick for his lungs, but he grabbed his beer anyway and chugged it, choking when the lump in his throat prevented him from swallowing properly. And for a moment, there was absolutely no air and suffocation triggered his mind. It made his body react against his will as he coughed and gagged up the liquid. Tears streamed down his cheeks from the pressure, and he was too exhausted to raise his arms to clear his chest, so he left gravity do its job.
He slumped to the floor, his breathing uneven still from all the exertion.
This feeling was never going to go away. Even if it started to, he would grasp onto it and make himself feel it over and over. He didn't have the right to let this go. He let everyone down. He let Beth down. And to move past that would be to forgive himself. But that wouldn't bring her back to him. Moving on from her was impossible.
Unwanted.
Five-hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes...
Measuring that year without her was sickening. And now it was starting all over again now that he knew for certain that was...dead. Not just missing. All those fantasies he had about her appearing back to him one day were dead with her.
His glassy eyes stared blankly across his floor. All the glass he shoved from the counter again lay broken. Except for one piece. It was Beth's favorite mug that she always left over his place. Somehow the Sweet Dreams… cup made it past his pain. He wanted to crawl over to it and press his lips to the cool glass. But he couldn't move - paralyzed - as if the mug was Beth speaking to him and telling him to sleep it off and wake up tomorrow.
If only for one more tomorrow...
Sam entered the Washington residence as though she owned the place - and perhaps it was no different than how she'd always entered all those years. But ever since Hannah had gotten home, the place had basically become her own. Sam had spent almost every single night there making sure her best friend was okay.
Or, perhaps, it was because being around Hannah gave her something else to focus on besides her own nightmares or the way that (regardless of how much she didn't want to admit it) there seemed to be a Josh-shaped hole in her chest these days. And just how being around Josh had seemed to ease her aching heart about Hannah and Beth when they were missing, being around Hannah now made those feelings about Josh easier to stomach.
When she entered the rec room at the bottom of the stairs, Hannah was getting off the phone - Sam caught the tail-end of the conversation as she set down some snacks she'd picked up on her way over and then shrugged off her jacket.
"-love you, too. See you then. Bye."
Hannah hadn't taken many calls since she'd been home, prompting Sam to wonder, "who was that?"
Hannah hung up and tucked the phone away almost nervously, tucking some raven hair nervously behind her ear. She cleared her throat, "uh… just my mom..."
"Oh? And?" Sam asked, unpacking the snacks and laying them across the green, felt surface of the pool table, the bags of processed, salted goodness rustling loudly. "Are they headed back?"
Bob and Melinda had been away for the last week, although it took a lot of convincing on Hannah and Sam's part to get them to leave. Since Hannah had been home they'd been around more than Sam had ever seen them all these years. Evidently losing their daughters and only having one return had shifted their priorities. The moment Hannah arrived home, Bob announced his retirement from the studio to spend more time at home with his remaining children.
Hannah sucked in a quick breath and blurted, "Josh is coming home this weekend."
"What?" Sam said as evenly as she could, clearing her own throat when it came out an octave too high to seem unbothered by this news. "I uh…. I thought he was supposed to be there for another week?"
Hannah could only shrug in response because, well… she didn't exactly know. She hadn't questioned it. She had just been ecstatic to hear her brother would be reuniting with her within the next 72 hours. She didn't think to ask whether or not he was ready to rejoin the "really real world."
"Don't you think it's a little...I don't know... soon?" Sam went on to ask, plopping down on the overstuffed sofa across from Hannah. She grabbed a pillow and pulled it onto her lap, hugging onto it, "don't you think he should at least finish out the month? I mean… A month doesn't cure crazy-"
"Well, I'm not a doctor, Sam," Hannah countered, her eyes narrowed into defensive slits. "And last I checked, neither are you. So, we don't really know what is best for Josh now, do we?" Hannah almost spat.
"Hannah," Sam breathed, tilting her head to the side, "you know that's not what I meant." Hannah's shoulders became loosened and unhinged and she snapped out of the defensiveness that seemed to clench her entire body.
"I know, you're right. I just… I'm sorry. I know everyone is going to be upset that Josh is headed home and I feel like… like I'm the only one in his corner. I want to be here for him… I want him to have people to come home to." Sam scooted closer to her best friend, gently pulling loose hairs from the collar of Hannah's purple sweater and smoothing it down.
"Hann. I know you love your brother. And I know you want people to form a welcoming committee, but… Please just know that our friends are going to need to process this in their own time. Josh did some terrible things that might make it hard for everyone to give him the warm welcome you're hoping for."
Hannah's eyes brightened and she sat up straighter, smiling hopefully, "I know but you'll be here, right Sam?" Sam's mouth dropped open to answer, but then snapped shut. She slowly shook her head.
"I… I can't-"
"That's ridiculous!" Hannah exclaimed, all the while knowing it was not, in fact, ridiculous. She stopped herself from saying more, pushing Sam further than she needed to.
"I am just wondering if it's too soon to put together a welcome home party. That's all."
"Sam… Look. I know Josh hurt people. Especially you. But I just want to try to put all of our pieces back together-"
"That's not your job, Hannah!" Sam explained, but Hannah acted as though she never heard it.
"-And if that means acting like things are normal - no - especially if that means acting like things are normal…. Well, I think that's for the best."
Sam wanted more than anything to tell her best friend she had her back - that she was going to make sure things were normal and that they could all be happy. But… whether Hannah wanted to admit it or not (and a huge part of Sam knew Hannah did NOT want to admit it) things had changed. And they couldn't go on pretending as though they hadn't.
"What about the others? Don't you think that they will want a heads up that he's getting out?" Sam asked, somewhat sidestepping the topic at hand. "Chris, Ash, Em…" she paused, wondering if she should continue on or not, "Mike?"
Hannah froze at the mention of his name.
"If you are expecting me to be there, don't you think Mike should be there, too? He was good friends with Josh. Are you even taking that into account?"
"I don't care if Mike's there," Hannah said, waving off the thought as though it were meaningless. "As long as you and Chris are there-"
"Oh, no," Sam countered, holding her hands up in surrender, "Hannah, I can't. I said that already. I can't be there-"
"Why can't you just be here when Josh gets home?" Hannah asked Sam in frustration. Above all else, Hannah just really wanted to show her brother that he still had a support group. ...or maybe he didn't.
Sam avoided all eye contact, "Hann, I highly doubt Josh will want to see me."
"Are you kidding me?!" Hannah nearly yelled, throwing her hands in the air, "He's been texting you - illegally - nonstop since the moment he was in the hospital. I'm pretty sure you're the only one he wants to see."
"Yeah, well…" Sam trailed off, not in the mood for arguing with Hannah. She knew the only reason she didn't want to be there when Josh got home was because of - well - Josh. And she knew Hannah knew that was why, too. But Josh was still going to be completely drugged up and would hardly realize where he was, let alone who was there. Sam seen it before one year ago. She knew the drill.
Hannah didn't even wait for Sam to try to come up with another excuse. She mumbled a 'whatever' under her breath before attempting to move on, "Do you have Chris' address? I'm sure he won't mind coming."
Sam bit her cheek, "Wouldn't you rather just try texting him?"
But Hannah wanted to check up on Chris since Josh wasn't able to at the moment. Sam had told her little bits about what happened the night she was found, but hoped that Chris and Ashley were working through it together. Yet when she reached the apartment door with the horrible number of 202 on the front, she instantly felt a tension - like something wasn't quite right. And having spent a year on the mountain where it became her job to sense feelings like this, she wanted to turn and run.
She was about to leave, to take Sam's advice and just text him, but then the door swung open and Chris was standing in front of her. He didn't seem as surprised as she was. Hardly any emotion flashed in his eyes and it made her uncomfortable enough to avert her eyes.
"Hey, Chris…" she started, wanting to look around him in his apartment but not wanting to seem like she was snooping, "I got your address from Sam and...wanted to tell you something in person."
"Okay," was his simple response. He turned around and walked back into his apartment and dropped down onto a chair like he weighed three-hundred pounds.
"Okay…" she echoed, stepping inside and closing the door gently behind her. She searched around for Ashley but didn't see her anywhere. Traces of her were, though. Hannah spotted books that were purely Ashley, a pair of purple gloves, a pastel notebook. Clearing her throat, she nonchalantly asked, "Ashley around?"
Without hardly moving, Chris motioned toward the bedroom, "Laying down."
"Oh… well, I won't stay long then, I just wanted to let you know that Josh is coming home this weekend."
There wasn't even a flicker in Chris' eyes when Hannah mentioned his name, but she jumped when Ashley spoke up from behind her.
"They're letting him out of the psych ward already?"
Hannah turned around to see Ashley in a long shirt and capri yoga pants, her hair a mess. She had the look that she tried sleeping but didn't succeed.
"It's almost been a month," Hannah reminded her.
"A month doesn't cure crazy…" Ashley mumbled, shuffling her feet across the floor to the Keurig as she mimicked Sam's words. It sent a sharp chill down Hannah's spine.
Hannah bit her tongue, mostly for Chris' sake. She could tell that he wasn't in the mood for anything Hannah could dish at Ashley; still, she was walking a very tight rope, "They gave him proper doses of medication. They said it was pointless to keep him there when he would feel much better at home."
Ashley popped a K-cup into the machine and pressed the top down harder than was necessary, "As long as he stays away from me."
"Let it go, Ash…" Chris spoke up, drained.
"And from you," she added, pointing at him sternly, as though she was positive she knew what was best for him.
"Um, actually," Hannah chimed in pointedly, reminding Ashley that it was her brother she was talking about, "I thought it would be nice if Chris was there when Josh got home. I'm sure he'd like to know his best friend still-."
"Still what?" Ashley interjected, "Is still his friend after everything he put us through? Because-."
Chris inhaled so deeply, and sighed so loudly, that it froze the whole room. It literally sucked the life out of the air. Ashley sealed her lips and brought her hot mug to her mouth before the coffee was even finished pouring. The dark coffee dripped down onto the base, splashing onto the counter, but Ashley didn't even seem to notice.
Hannah noticed that they both avoided eye contact with her and with each other. And it wasn't in the cute, shy way she remembered from a year ago.
"Are you seriously trying to keep him from being friends with Josh?" Hannah asked, not even bothering to hold back her disgust.
"Oh, says the girl who tried for years to get her sister to stop being friends with Mike," Ashley retorted quickly.
Hannah pursed her lips. She wanted to punch the redhead twenty times over for even thinking it was okay to bring up Beth, or the past for that matter. She thought about how she broke Mike's nose at the lodge, and imagined the damage she could do to Ashley's face. She was beginning to see deep red, but before she could lose herself in her anger, Chris spoke up.
"I'll be there," he said, but nothing more. He stood from the chair and walked into the bedroom.
"Okay then," Hannah took that as her cue to leave. She didn't even say goodbye to Ashley when she walked out of their apartment.
"I don't think you should go," Ashley said from the bedroom doorway. She was picking at her fingernails nervously. Chris was lying down facing away from her. His arms were crossed like he was cold, and his distance was making her shiver.
"Thanks for the input," was all Chris could manage. He still had his glasses on, and when he tilted his head slightly into the pillow, they shifted uncomfortably, but he didn't have the strength or willpower to uncross his arms to set them on the dresser that was six inches away.
"He...really tried to hurt us that night, you know…" she tiptoed around the subject of that night, not wanting to talk about it, but wanting Chris to remember what kind of person Josh was. Ashley didn't know how she was going to navigate her relationship with Chris when his best friend was a psychopath that she never wanted to see or hear from again.
With courage, she walked around their bed and kneeled down in front of him. Even though she was right in front of him, he refused to look at her. She took his crooked glasses off his face and gently folded them before laying them on the nightstand.
"Chris…" she pleaded quitely.
Hearing his name said with so much despair, he blinked long and slow, before opening his eyes to stare into her scared and sad green ones. And he tried to hold her gaze. To let her know that he would choose her over him. But that wasn't the issue. Not really. Because truth was, he didn't think he would be able to look Josh in the eye either and not wish for him to just be locked up forever.
Ashley reminded Chris of what he did (or what he thought he did) to Josh, but Josh reminded him of what he could have had with Ashley had he not covered her in blood; the blood that clouded his vision all the time.
So with that, he closed his eyes again and turned over, never once uncrossing his arms. Tears clouded Ashley's eyes and she pressed her forehead to the edge of the mattress. But only for a second. Crying would make her seem sentimental to why Chris wants to go see Josh, and she wasn't. She was pissed and there was nowhere for her anger to go.
"If you're going, then so am I," she said dully, then pushed herself from the floor and walked out of the bedroom.
Mike's Apartment - Mike Munroe
"Oh my God, are you dead?"
These were the first words Mike heard as he started to come to, the sunlight pouring in from the kitchen window and hitting his eyes just right, as though Jesus himself was asking the question.
"I really wish I was…" He mumbled as he squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to get away from Jesus' over exuberant love.
"Shit…" Sam sighed loudly, accidentally kicking an empty beer bottle and sending it across the room. Mike groaned as the sound rattled inside his head, "I really thought I was going to have to tell everyone you died."
"I doubt any of them would care at this point," it took everything in him to get these words out, his breath being taken away by the last word as he tried to lift himself from the floor.
Sam frowned, "That's not something to joke about, you should know that by now."
"Who said I was joking?" Mike waved her off, not in the mood for her chastising ways, "How did you get in here anyway?"
"I knocked a few times, but then realized the door was unlocked," she picked up a couple bottles from the ground and set them on the counter, "Probably not the best idea to do in this area."
"Uh-huh. I'm shaking in my army issued combat boots."
"Just because you survived wendigos doesn't mean you'd sur-."
"SHHH. We don't say the W word anymore. It will cause a widespread panic."
Sam pursed her lips, wanting to tell him that it was just the two of them. But he was right. It was just another thing she was going to have to supress.
"Anyway, what are you doing here?" He asked dryly, his throat aching for water. He grabbed a glass sitting next to his sink and filled it with water as fast as he could. Sam watched as he all but splashed the water on his face and down his throat before refilling the glass.
"Well…um," she hesitated, carefully picking up one of his barstools and taking a seat, "Josh is getting released soon. Hannah and I figured we should check up on you guys and hear the news from us first before-."
"Who did she visit?"
"Chris and Ashley."
"Ah...so you got stuck with pathetic ol' me, huh?"
Mike's phone made a sound that indicated his battery was low. It was on the counter beside Sam, and she happened to glance at it when it lit up.
"You know you got 17 messages from Emily?"
"I'll get back to her later," Mike said in a way that meant he would not.
Sam didn't push the subject; she waited for Mike to gulp down his fourth glass of water. "So...you doing okay?"
He chuckled and shook his head, "You don't have to pretend to care with me, Sam. I'm not Josh."
Her face flushed red at the apparent insult, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means I won't flip my crazy clown undies on."
Sam threw her hands in the air and stood up, "You know what? I'm sorry I came over here."
Mike rolled his eyes, "Damn, you don't have to get so defensive. I was just remembering all those times in the past year when Josh would text you, asking you to come over, and you would have to think about it for a looonngg time before giving him an answer. Now is that really caring?"
Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave him the raised eyebrow, "Why are you talking to me like I'm Emily?"
He sighed, slamming his glass on the counter. She caught him. "I dunno, I guess I just miss the arguing."
"Well...you have issues then."
Mike looked over his shoulder at her, the two of them staring blankly at each other for many seconds before finally cracking a small smile at her ironically accurate statement. He hung his head down and heaved a sigh that may have also turned into a laugh if he didn't have such a headache, "Yeah..I guess I do. Thanks for checking on me."
Hannah & Sam - Washington Residence
Sam sucked in a sharp breath as she looked down at her stinging fingernails - they were bitten down to the point of bleeding.
She couldn't recall the moment she became a nail-biter, actually.
She had always been somewhat of a tomboy, but she'd always taken pride in her nails. It was about the only overtly "girly" aspect about her.
But her nails were a mess these days - constantly gnawed and chewed and raw.
It was nearing 11 pm when Hannah and Sam heard a car pull into the driveway - the glow of the headlights splayed across the walls of the living room before clicking off. Sam was the first to sit up from her slouched position on the couch to investigate.
"I thought you said your parents were out of town?" She droned over the sound of the television that neither girl was even watching.
Moments like this made Sam tense now, and Hannah wasn't too far behind her. Hannah quickly got on her feet, sweeping over toward the living room window to peek through the curtains.
After a moment, she let out a soft, nervous, "oh…"
Her parents were home early… and they weren't alone.
"Who is it?" Sam wondered, suddenly up behind Hannah as well. She curiously peeked past her friend, but Hannah seemed to be purposefully obstructing her view. She twisted her body in a way that allowed her to see out to the driveway and her stomach dropped - there was Melinda, helping Josh out of the backseat of their black Mercedes as Bob rounded the back with his luggage.
"I… I thought you said they wouldn't be back until tomorrow night?" Sam uttered, almost breathlessly. Her cheeks felt hot and sudden anger gripped her fluttering heart, squeezing on it tightly. "Hannah, that's what you said," she hissed, clawing her aching fingers through her hair.
Hannah could only turn to Sam and shrug helplessly. Her eyes were wide, her eyebrows sloped downward in muddled confusion.
"I-I don't know, Sam. That's what they told me-"
Sam could feel her anxiety grow inside of her as they watched the three slowly make their way up the path to the front door. Josh's steps were lazy and clumsy and he looked completely out of it.
Hannah felt torn - on one hand, she was ecstatic to see her brother home and (mostly) healthy and whole. On the other hand, she knew Sam was uncomfortable and quite possibly on the cusp of a full-on panic attack. She could see the actual fear in Sam's eyes as she backed away from the front door, just as it opened.
Sam had seen Josh return from inpatient care before, it wasn't as though this was new. But she hadn't anticipated seeing the light so far removed from his usually vibrant eyes when they immediately caught hers. It almost felt… haunting.
"Josh!" Hannah nearly whimpered, colliding into him and pulling him into a hug. A sob escaped her throat as she gripped onto him. But Josh hardly reacted, his arms slowly creeping up to hesitantly pat his sister on the back. Although, given how loopy he was, it was clear Hannah could have been literally anyone and he would have no idea.
"Careful, Hann. He's not too steady on his feet right now," Melinda warned, taking off her jacket and then promptly going to Josh to help him out of his. He looked like a little boy coming home from school, being doted on this way.
"Is… is he alright?" Hannah asked, backing away slowly from her zombie-like brother.
Bob patted Josh lovingly on the shoulder and Josh wobbled under the weight of it, "he'll be just fine. Just needs to sleep it off a bit. The doctor gave him a sedative for the trip home."
That much was clear - he was practically drooling there in front of them.
"Oh.. okay," Hannah replied hesitantly, her voice small.
"C'mon, Joshie. Bedtime," Melinda said far too motherly, pointing Josh toward the direction of his room as though he were some stranger to his own home. Bob stepped forward, his hands resting on his only daughter's shoulders as he pressed a kiss into Hannah's hair, "get some rest, sweetie."
"Okay, daddy," Hanna replied, hugging onto herself when Bob pulled away. Bob then left to head to his study, leaving Hannah alone with Sam once more. There was a long, lingering silence before Sam let out the breath didn't even realize she'd been holding until it escaped her lungs.
"I should go-" she said definitively, pushing past Hannah to go fetch her things.
Hannah's head fell back and she groaned.
"C'mon, Sam, that's ridiculous. It's late. And he's so doped up he didn't even acknowledge you," Hannah tried to coax, but she was wrong. Sam saw the recognition in Josh's eyes when he looked at her. He might have been trapped in his xanex-induced lethargy, but she knew he saw her.
"I don't think it's a good idea," Sam replied, evenly. She attempted again to head up to the guest room to collect her things so she could go home, but Hannah gripped her arm.
"Please, Sam? Don't go. We can set an alarm and you can leave in the morning. But I really don't want to be alone-"
"You're not alone," Sam snorted, emptily gesturing toward the looming set of stairs, "your whole family is right up there-"
"Not my whole family."
Those words stung, and Sam was instantly filled with guilt for forgetting about Beth.
"Sorry, Hann," Sam said so quietly was almost a whisper. "You know what I meant…"
"Yeah, I know," Hannah sighed, bobbing her head and slipping her hands into her warm sweater sleeves. "And I also know this is a lot to ask but… please don't go. Just stay one more night."
Sam wasn't quite sure what difference a few hours would make in the grand scheme of things, but it was hard to say no to her best friend's pleading eyes. And perhaps she was right - Josh was completely catatonic, what harm could he really do in his current state?
"Ok, Hannah," Sam gave in, but not without adding, "but only until morning. And then I need to go home. It's time to get back to real life."
Which would be fine, but Hannah couldn't help but think that 'getting back to real life' just didn't seem to be an option for her.
An hour or so later, the girls went up to Hannah's room to try to get some sleep.
But Sam did not sleep.
She laid there beside her best friend, envious of her soft snoring. The very idea that she was supposed to rest comfortably with the guy who came unhinged and terrorized her under the same roof just seemed impossible. Every creak and groan of the old house made her restless with unease, and she spent much of the night just staring at the grooves ceiling, praying that sleep would just overtake her.
Soon, the faint, blue glow of daylight began to leak through Hannah's curtains, and Sam knew that meant she was free to go - she couldn't bear another minute here like this.
Not wanting to wake up Hannah and have yet another conversation about her feelings regarding everything, Sam quietly dressed and slipped on her shoes. And while she'd been sleeping in Hannah's room these last few weeks, all of her stuff was clear across the house in the guest bedroom.
Including her car keys.
Sam snuck out from Hannah's room, quietly navigating the halls of the Washington house, passing Josh's room on the way. Her stomach dipped as she tiptoed by his door, although she couldn't resist pausing to hear if there was any stirring from the other side.
Nothing.
She breathed a sigh of relief before continuing on into the guest room next door. She hurriedly shoved her belongings back in her black Nike duffle bag, figuring that anything she left behind could be retrieved later, and grabbed her keys. When she spun around to make a run for the front door, she nearly jumped from her skin to see Josh waiting in the doorway.
"Jesus!" she shrieked, dropping her bag and clutching her heart that quite literally hammered against her chest. "What the hell is the matter with you!" Sam was over pleasantries - they were way past that at this point. "You know what? Don't even answer that. I'm pretty sure we don't have time to unpack that shitstorm right now, anyway."
Josh was unmoved by her understandable anger, "Sam… Wait… I just wanted to say I'm sorry-"
"Yeah, good luck with that," she uttered back curtly, trying to push past him. But once again, Josh impeded her way.
Always impeding her way.
"I was so out of it last night I didn't even say hello. That was rude of me."
Sam's mouth fell open and went to respond, but then she felt her face twist up in confusion - or was that disgust?
"Wait. You're here to apologize to me… for being rude last night?"
"Well… yeah-"
"Wow," Sam huffed out with an incredulous chuckle. She shook her head, spouting sarcastically, "how very thoughtful of you. But believe me… I couldn't possibly care less that you didn't say hello to me last night, Josh."
Despite never wanting to lay eyes on him again, she could look at nothing else. His eyes weren't fogged over like they were the night before - in fact they were clearer than she'd seen them since even before the twins went missing.
"In fact, I don't care if you never say hello to me again. So let's just get that straight." Sam moved past him, not letting his body stand in her way this time. She fought off monsters. She could handle maniacs anyday.
"Sam," Josh stopped her with his hand gripping her arm, but Sam shuddered at his touch, ripping herself from him.
"Don't touch me," she warned and although she was firm, her voice still shook. Josh took a step back without question as her breathing became shallow and she moved back from him more, her heels almost clunking against the wall behind her. His eyes still softened, rounding with worry despite the obvious tension between them.
"Sor-" he tried.
"Don't ever touch me, Josh. I mean it-" Josh could only watch helplessly as her chest heaved - it was clear he made her uncomfortable and he obviously couldn't fault her for that.
"Sam, I know you're still mad at me. I just… I really hope things can be okay again, someday-"
"Ya know what, Josh?" She spoke from her teeth, almost a hiss. She could see the way he winced that it stung. She felt like an animal, backed into a corner like this. "There is literally nothing you can say to me that is going to make me forgive you-"
Josh wanted so badly to step forward to her but stopped himself. He didn't want to make things worse.
"I know… I know you don't owe me anything, Sam. And I know that what I did to you is completely unforgivable…"
There was a long pause when his words trailed off, and while Sam knew this was the moment she should be heading toward the freedom of the front door, she couldn't help but fold her arms over her chest and wait. "But?"
And with that one syllable, she could see a bit of relief wash over Josh. At least she was willing to hear what he had to say to her.
"But I need you to know that I am sorry. A-and I don't care if you forgive me - well, that's actually not true. I really want you to forgive me but - what I'm trying to say is whether you forgive me or not, I am sorry. And I will never stop trying to prove that to you."
"WHY?" she snapped, picking her bag back up and hoisting the strap onto her shoulder. "You don't need to PROVE anything to me, Josh. Because I don't care. Do you understand that? I don't care about you. You ruined that for me-"
"Bullshit," was his response, although it was hardly pointed. She felt her cheeks warm with ire when she saw the beginnings of a trademark Joshua Washington smirk forming on his lips. "You are really going to stand here and tell me you don't care about me?"
And here they went again - 'round and 'round like a merry-go-round. It had been years of this, and Sam just couldn't stomach it anymore.
It wasn't like it used to be.
It could never be like it used to be.
"Josh… can we not? I'm so tired-"
"You're tired," he all but sneered back at her. He ran an exasperated hand through his disheveled bedhead, "after everything we've been through, that's all you can give me?"
"Give you?" Sam snapped back at him, staring back at him in disbelief. "Maybe I'm tired because all I've done for over the past year is give you. I have given you every last drop of my time and support and energy and you still hurt me, Josh! So forgive me if I have nothing left to give you."
And with that, Sam took determined steps forward and down the hall, out from under the stare of Josh's stale, gray eyes.
Josh & Chris - Washington Residence
It was business as usual on the most part - aside from the fact that Hannah couldn't get Josh to even look at her since he'd been home. She'd done everything in her power to act like things were normal, but something had shifted. Something was changed, no matter how much they all wished it hadn't.
But then, the night after Josh had arrived home, Chris had arrived, just how he promised he would.
Although, it was without Ashley.
"Josh! Chris is here!" Hannah yelled up the stairs as loud as she could. It brought back many memories for Chris when Hannah would use to do the exact thing when they were much younger. This was way back when Chris and Josh first became friends and it wasn't yet appropriate to just barge right into their house and fly up the stairs to Josh's room.
Josh yelled something back down the stairs that neither Chris or Hannah could understand.
"What?!" Hannah yelled in return.
Josh tried to yell again but it was still muffled so Hannah just screamed, "Just get your ass down here!"
Chris was wincing at this point, as Hannah was right beside him, but didn't say anything. She seemed like the old Hannah when she was being like this, and he wanted to let her have this very annoying moment.
"Want something to drink?" She asked him as they waited for Josh. Chris stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets and shook his head. Even still, he followed her over to the island in the kitchen where she appeared to be making coffee.
"Coffee at eight at night?" He asked, mostly just for something to say.
"One of the things I missed most? Coffee," she poured a large amount of dark liquid into a mug so large that she might as well have used that as the coffee pot. The mug had a picture of a smiling taco with the words "every now and then I fall apart" written around it. Then she poured a large amount of half and half in, followed by four packs of sugar.
"I can tell."
Even though he said he didn't want anything, she ended pouring him a cup of coffee as well. And then added only a splash of cream, followed by only a half pack of sugar.
"How do you remember how I take my coffee?"
"Cause I always thought about how you half-assed it all."
"Oh…" Chris took the mug from her (a Halloween mug that said "trick or treat yo'self") and only got one sip down before Josh appeared.
"Chris! Bro!" Josh pulled him in for a bear hug, which was awkward to say the least, especially with a hot mug of coffee between them. When he pulled away, some of it had stained Chris' hoodie. He stared down at the stain, seemingly upset and then mesmerized and then indifferent by it, before placing the mug back on the counter.
Hannah raised her eyebrow at the scene, but then excused herself so they could have some bro catching up time.
Josh also decided to pour himself some coffee, but then reached underneath the island and grabbed a flask, then poured some of whatever alcohol was in that into his mug. Then he poured some in Chris' coffee as well, "What's been happenin'? Heard you moved in with Ashley. Up high!"
Josh held his hand up for a high five, but Chris was just looking down at his mug, thinking about how Josh ruined what was actually really good coffee.
"I don't drink anymore."
Chuckling, Josh continued to hold up his hand, "What?"
"I, uh…" Chris tucked his hands back into his hoodie pockets, "Get like...fucked up in the head when I drink now…"
"That's the point, isn't it?" He finally lowered his arm, realizing that Chris was just going to leave him hanging.
"Are you supposed to drink on whatever meds they have you on right now?"
"When did you become a helicopter mom?" Josh teased, not even thinking anything of it, as they always messed with each other as such. He drank some of his mixture, "Besides, you know I've always mixed."
Chris didn't answer, just pushed the mug toward Josh.
"So you're Netflixin' and chillin' every night with Ashley now, huh? I should start my own dating site."
Chris still said nothing.
"And I'll call it…"
"If you say Bone Zone, I swear…"
"That's not a dating site name," Josh laughed, "It has to be something that will bring the ladies in."
"How, by traumatizing them?" Chris' voice took a sudden deep edge to it, and it threw Josh off. He sort of recalled some memories of how Chris looked at him after he revealed he was the psychopath to everyone, but that seemed like a distant dream now. Chris had to be over it at this point...especially since it all worked out with Ashley.
"Bro...you all right?" Josh asked.
"You just...need to drop the act," Chris started off with a hint of hatred, but the sentence ended with pitiful defeat, "You're acting like everything is the same as it was two years ago."
"I know it's not the same," Josh said pointedly. When he heard Chris had ccometo visit, Josh was relieved. He knew that Chris would be the one person he could be his old goofy self with and not be talked down to, or treated like he should be in a mental hospital for many more months, if not years. But now that he was actually talking to Chris, he felt like everyone one else was mild in comparison. And it wasn't even in what Chris was actually saying. It was what he wasn't saying, and how he was acting. Like he was a friend from ten years ago, but they had each moved on with their own lives. Like they were trying to rekindle a friendship with only the memories of how they both used to be.
And Josh hated it.
"Ashley doesn't even know I'm here right now."
"You couldn't tell her you were visiting your best bro? What did you say then, that you were going to the strip club?"
"Honestly, she would have hated that less," Chris deadpanned.
Josh laughed, ignoring the insult and treating it as a joke, "You chose your mate well, young grasshopper."
"Would you stop!" Chris yelled. He sighed loudly and took off his glasses. He rubbed his eyes with his palms so hard, Josh was sure they were about to be driven into his skull. "Ashley doesn't think we should be friends anymore because of what you put us through. And honestly? She's not wrong."
Josh could only stare at him for a very long minute. Chris refused to make eye contact for as long as he could, but it was so quiet for so long, he eventually had to look up.
"Are you serious?" Josh finally asked.
"You punched her in the face," Chris reminded him.
Josh waved that off, "Instinctual reaction."
"You made me believe I killed you to save her!"
Josh leaned forward like he was about to tell the secret of life, "To make her panties wet for you, Bro."
Chris all but growled when he slammed his fist on the counter, "You fucked it all up!"
Josh leaned back and away from Chris' death glare. A glare that Chris could only hold for so long. Because he knew the truth. Josh truly thought he did right by him. And to try to explain it to Josh, well...Chris didn't even have the strength to do it. He slid his fist off the counter and it drooped pathetically to his side. Chris thought about what he'd do and how he'd react when Josh said he was sorry. But he didn't consider what he'd do if he didn't get an apology whatsoever.
And the saddest part was, Josh knew what he should say. He was still a bit doped up on xanex when he told Sam he was sorry, so why was that any different than this? Did he just assume Chris would forgive him like he did in the past? Instead, all Josh could say was, "We can...still be bros though, right?"
Chris stuck his hands back in his hoodie. He wanted to pull the hood over his head and hide his face as well. He thought about how easy it would be to lie to Josh and say yes, and how, despite everything, it was still too hard to say no. So he went with, "I'll try…" and it was more than either of them expected.
Chris' phone chimed but he didn't bother pulling it out to look at it. Josh pretty much knew that it was from Ashley. Still, he didn't ask if Chris was getting to get that, even when his ringtone started up to indicate he was getting a call. Chris stared blankly ahead, and Josh could tell Chris was no longer there with him.
He was blocking out both of them - and it would take more than a casual conversation to bring his best friend back from the edge.
TBC