Blurb: After Henry Tilney's death, he is sent to a "good" neighborhood to spend the rest of eternity. A Good Place AU. Jane-uary 2025 event.
THE GOOD NA-BORHOOD
Day 13: Christian name
Chapter Summary: Summary: Henry endures a walk of shame.
CW: Henry was too drunk to consent to sex the night before but it still happened.There's no mention in this work of Miss Thorpe's intentions in walking Henry home. After waking up in her bed, Henry avoids her for the rest of the story so there is no confrontation and no resolution. You are welcome to imagine her side of this in a way that is least uncomfortable. If you want to skip this chapter, please do. And I hope you rejoin me for the next chapter.
We're neighbors; shouldn't we call each other by our Christian names?
Henry's eyes snapped open the next morning. There was no lingering hangover but he could feel the last remnants of a nightmare fading away. Had he dreamt about dying? Were his memories coming back?
Looking about was disorienting. This was his first morning waking up in the afterlife but this room was jarringly unfamiliar, like it was made for someone else.
With a jolt of panic, he realized that this was not his new home. No, he'd drunk too much last night and then Miss Thorpe had offered him a private tour of her place. Henry had resisted at first but had relented when they'd mistakenly ended up outside her door anyway.
At least it was a mistake on Henry's part. He wasn't sure if he could say the same about Miss Thorpe. Henry was new and had been trying to be friendly. Miss Thorpe had been in the neighborhood for a few years and understood its rules and effects. It felt a little like a dirty trick.
Slowly so as not to wake the sleeping Miss Thorpe, he inched out of the bed, gathered his rumpled clothing, and crept from the room. He wondered if he'd be able to quietly leave and pretend the whole thing never happened.
Henry found he could breathe easier now that he had a closed door between himself and his mistake. He began to get dressed but quickly noticed that some pieces were missing, such as his trousers. Oh, this was a terrible first impression on the neighborhood, Miss Thorpe especially. He had been drunk last night and now he had crushing regret.
"Catherine," he said quietly.
"Good morning, Mr. Tilney," Catherine began cheerily.
"It's morning," he agreed, "but not very good. I seem to have misplaced a few articles of clothing. Can you help?"
"Would you like an entirely fresh outfit?" she asked.
"Yes!" Henry said, not realizing that was an option, then checked his enthusiasm by glancing guiltily towards the bedroom door.
Catherine handed him a neatly folded bundle of clothes, then stood there waiting for more instruction.
"Um, I'd like to change now," he said when she showed no sign of leaving him alone.
"Do you need additional assistance?" she asked with apparent innocence.
"Can I get some privacy?" he asked plainly.
"Mr. Tilney, I am not a human. As such, I am not susceptible to human taboos regarding nakedness. You do not need to feel ashamed around me," she told him.
He probably should have told her to leave. Instead, he turned around and began to change into the clean clothes. If he couldn't see her, that was probably good enough.
"Are there any rules or consequences about what Miss Thorpe and I did last night?" he tried asking.
"Do you mean when you had sex?" Catherine clarified.
Henry winced and slipped on the tshirt. "Yes. We're not soulmates or pregnant now, are we? Or do we need to get a checkup or anything?"
"Soulmates are a romantic human concept that can only be judged after a lifelong relationship has ended in death. As you are both already dead, it is impossible to consider you soulmates," explained Catherine. "As for your other concerns, no. Dead people do not need to worry about those things."
Henry almost heaved a sigh of relief but he was precariously hopping on one foot to put on a sock.
"However, you and Miss Thorpe will spend the rest of eternity knowing that you have had sex with each other," Catherine amended.
Henry nearly toppled over but mostly recovered by aggressively falling into his shoes.
"Thank you, Catherine." He said it with a mix of earnest gratitude and irritation.
"You're welcome," she responded and disappeared.
The shoes were the last bit that Catherine had brought him. He was fully dressed and he needed to leave before Miss Thorpe woke up. With palpable relief, he snuck out the front door and down the staircase to the ground floor. The street was not crowded yet with residents on their morning errands and Henry felt a little disoriented.
"Catherine," he said.
"Hello again, Mr. Tilney," she said with indefatigable goodwill.
"Can you show me how to get home from here?" he asked.
He felt even more foolish asking for directions than clothes but Catherine smiled at him without judgement and started to walk down the street towards the memorial.
"I have another question," he began as they turned at the memorial away from Thorpe Hall. "Actually, I have an observation and then a question."
Catherine merely looked at him expectantly.
"At last night's party, all my neighbors introduced themselves as Mr. So-and-So or Mrs. Such-and-Such. And they all called me Mr. Tilney even though I know I tried to give them my first name. But then there's you and Michael. Why is that? We're neighbors; shouldn't we call each other by our Christian names? Conversely, why do we address you and Michael so informally?"
"Michael and I have no other names for you to call us," Catherine answered the last question first. "As for addressing other residents formally as Mister or Miss, that's a setting Michael has chosen for the neighborhood to help preserve the distinction between humans and nonhumans."
"But what if I wanted someone to call me Mr. Tilney instead of Mr. Tilney?" he questioned, then heard what he'd said. "I mean, Mr. Tilney, not Mr. Tilney."
He stopped walking. Why was it so hard to say Henry?
"As the architect, Michael has access to neighborhood controls like weather and hangovers and names," Catherine explained when she saw him struggling.
That didn't seem right. "I should be allowed to tell people to call me Mr. Tilney if I want them to," said Henry, which only made him more irritated. "You know what I meant. It's my name; I should be allowed to say it!"
"Michael has decided that it is in the best interests of the neighborhood for the human residents to maintain some formality. You will be here for eternity and you all must get along with each other. If you get too familiar and then suffer a falling out - such as you had sex with someone and then left without saying 'good morning' - it might make things awkward."
Henry glared at her, convinced Catherine was criticizing him. But when her expression remained open and helpful, he was forced to believe that he was just being cynical.
Mollified, he offered, "You at least should be allowed to call me Mr. Tilney."
"Oh, I do," Catherine said with a laugh.
