[It had been days since the mess on Blackwood, the police hadn't exactly been willing to believe their story, but the Washington's were so bent on finding their lost son, they didn't care much about pressing charges for the burnt up lodge. For now, anyway. Chris knew the family well, but this...this had broken them beyond recognition. He wasn't sure they'd have a saving grace for very long.
Chris had no idea how he was supposed to deal with life after this. How he was supposed to find some kind of normalcy after any of this. How could they even contemplate normal any more? He'd holed himself up in his room and done little more than that. He wanted to reach out though, check on his friends. That was his nature, after all. If he could put everyone else before him, he'd be able to NOT deal with his own shit.
So, Mike will be getting a text message at probably some ungoldy hour in the night: ]
[ The idea of actual recovery is hard. No one really understands what they went through up on the mountain, and no one wants to believe it either - and why would they? Who wants to think that one of the Washington kids turned into a flesh eating monster and went after all her friends before running off to do God knows what with her brother in the depths of the mines? No one. Mike is sure he wouldn't believe it himself if he hadn't been there, if he hadn't lost part of himself surviving for as long as he had.
Even now he has moments where he feels like he's still wandering the mines or the Stranger's hideout, that he might blink and Wolfie will be there guiding him through dark corridors and keeping him away from the Wendigo. He'd fought hard and checked in on Jessica - her parents were keeping her in hospital for a long while, understandably - and he was left to settle down in his bed, cuts and bruises tended to and his chest sore as he tried to just deal with it all.
He almost falls out of bed in shock when his phone goes off, his hand grabbing it with a hissed curse. It's just Chris, but - yeah, he guesses what's going on. ]
[He could give a hundred reasons for reaching out. Most of the false. He's really not GOOD at this opening up thing. He's the supportive one, and having to lean on others just doesn't sit right with him. He needs to make sure his friends are okay before he can deal with his own stuff.
...Trouble is, he's not sure if any of them will ever be "okay" again. ]
[ For a moment Mike wants to laugh. What's he supposed to say here? Just shrug it off as 'yeah, I'm fine, no nightmares of creepy fucked up monsters stalking me through a house that I almost blew up in'? Sure, that works, and he fights back a bitter laugh as he turns over in his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to pretend that he can't hear the Wendigo screeching in his ears.
Chris is trying though, really trying, and while they were never Best Buds he appreciates it. He has to try in return, no matter how much his mind hurts or how strange and broken his body feels. ]
Honestly? Been better, you know? Can't really sleep, but getting there. How're you doing, Chris? Probably the same, huh?
[Chris tries to keep it light, but it's an autopilot response more than anything else. Chris is the funny one, so funny he will remain, even if he feels the least funny person on the planet right now. He just wants to curl into a ball and forget any of this ever happened. To make it so it DIDN'T happen. Rewind the past entire year, in fact. ]
I forgot what sleep was. I think it's a thing where you lie down and you keep your eyes closed for like 8 hours but I might be wrong.
[Har har. So funny. Funny old Chris. ]
How's the hand? Painkillers doing anything for it?
[ How can they keep this light? What happened to them is awful, a disgusting thing that came out of Josh's vengeance and a curse laid upon a mountain, all tied up with their own terrible choice. He regrets the stupid prank, what happened, how he'd hurt Hannah and he knows he's matured so much since then. He only wishes that he could do something to make it better. ]
I'm not sure if I've ever heard of that, man. It sounds like some kind of weird game.
[ He huffs a sigh to himself, continuing. ]
Yeah, I'm on some serious shit, Chris. You should've seen the doctor's face.
Seems like one of those games you can't win at, right?
[ Mike will end up passing out from exhaustion eventually, or someone will come in and force his sleeping pills on him, but he can ignore that for now. The texting is easier, and it lightens the weight on his shoulders. ]
I swear it's like I'm getting high. Things felt reaaaal loopy for a while and then all the pain went far, far away. It's good stuff whatever it is. Almost enough to make a man forget about his fingers.
I think that accurately describes our lives right now, yeah.
Well, shit. Thank you American medical care, I guess. For bestowing upon mike the glory of Ye Awesome Painkillers. I got a box of Asprin and got sent on my merry way.
Another description could also be: absolute bullshit.
Hey, man, to be fair, you didn't have to cut your own goddamn fingers off. [ Because he wasn't dumb enough to go and grab an obvious trap, but, hey, no need to mention that part. ] I'd share but I think Jess would kill me if she found out.
We could totally write a book, you know. 'Escaping Shitholes and Daring Situations: The Bullshit Chronicles'. Something like that.
Tell me about it - she didn't even have any clothes on. [ Any other time and he might be damn proud about that, you know. ] But at least she got taken care of and the doctors have given her everything she needs. I saw her before she went home and - she was hurt, but she was doing okay.
It'd be a bestseller in no time. We'd be rolling in it.
I'm glad she's- well not okay, but healing, I guess? That's something. Better than it could be anyway.
Can't say I blame her, my folks aren't exactly willing to let me leave the house at the moment. Which, I know, nothing unusual in my staying inside, but still. I think they're just all worried about us.
We'd go on those book tours and people would ask stupid questions and we'd have one of those Looks, like we're parents with badass kids or something.
I'm gonna go and see her soon. I didn't really want to be anywhere else, but, yeah, her mom and all that. I guess I wasn't all that good at keeping her little girl safe. My mom's just glad I'm not, you know. Dead.
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awww yes
Chris had no idea how he was supposed to deal with life after this. How he was supposed to find some kind of normalcy after any of this. How could they even contemplate normal any more? He'd holed himself up in his room and done little more than that. He wanted to reach out though, check on his friends. That was his nature, after all. If he could put everyone else before him, he'd be able to NOT deal with his own shit.
So, Mike will be getting a text message at probably some ungoldy hour in the night: ]
You up?
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Even now he has moments where he feels like he's still wandering the mines or the Stranger's hideout, that he might blink and Wolfie will be there guiding him through dark corridors and keeping him away from the Wendigo. He'd fought hard and checked in on Jessica - her parents were keeping her in hospital for a long while, understandably - and he was left to settle down in his bed, cuts and bruises tended to and his chest sore as he tried to just deal with it all.
He almost falls out of bed in shock when his phone goes off, his hand grabbing it with a hissed curse. It's just Chris, but - yeah, he guesses what's going on. ]
Sure, man. What's up?
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...Trouble is, he's not sure if any of them will ever be "okay" again. ]
Checking in on you. How're you holding up?
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Chris is trying though, really trying, and while they were never Best Buds he appreciates it. He has to try in return, no matter how much his mind hurts or how strange and broken his body feels. ]
Honestly? Been better, you know? Can't really sleep, but getting there. How're you doing, Chris? Probably the same, huh?
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I forgot what sleep was. I think it's a thing where you lie down and you keep your eyes closed for like 8 hours but I might be wrong.
[Har har. So funny. Funny old Chris. ]
How's the hand? Painkillers doing anything for it?
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I'm not sure if I've ever heard of that, man. It sounds like some kind of weird game.
[ He huffs a sigh to himself, continuing. ]
Yeah, I'm on some serious shit, Chris. You should've seen the doctor's face.
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[Fuck sleep. Sleep brings nightmares. He'll stay awake forever please and thank you. ]
Yeesh. I can bet. Not exactly a regular complaint. But at least you're getting stuff for it. That's something.
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[ Mike will end up passing out from exhaustion eventually, or someone will come in and force his sleeping pills on him, but he can ignore that for now. The texting is easier, and it lightens the weight on his shoulders. ]
I swear it's like I'm getting high. Things felt reaaaal loopy for a while and then all the pain went far, far away. It's good stuff whatever it is. Almost enough to make a man forget about his fingers.
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Well, shit. Thank you American medical care, I guess. For bestowing upon mike the glory of Ye Awesome Painkillers. I got a box of Asprin and got sent on my merry way.
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Hey, man, to be fair, you didn't have to cut your own goddamn fingers off. [ Because he wasn't dumb enough to go and grab an obvious trap, but, hey, no need to mention that part. ] I'd share but I think Jess would kill me if she found out.
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No, no I didn't. Which, you know, wish you hadn't but still. Naw man, Jess needs all the painkillers she can get. She broke her everything.
She holding up okay?
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Tell me about it - she didn't even have any clothes on. [ Any other time and he might be damn proud about that, you know. ] But at least she got taken care of and the doctors have given her everything she needs. I saw her before she went home and - she was hurt, but she was doing okay.
Her mom's got her locked up, though. Duh.
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I'm glad she's- well not okay, but healing, I guess? That's something. Better than it could be anyway.
Can't say I blame her, my folks aren't exactly willing to let me leave the house at the moment. Which, I know, nothing unusual in my staying inside, but still. I think they're just all worried about us.
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I'm gonna go and see her soon. I didn't really want to be anywhere else, but, yeah, her mom and all that. I guess I wasn't all that good at keeping her little girl safe. My mom's just glad I'm not, you know. Dead.
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Ditto on my folks. But hey, you did what you could. You had some moments of pure badassery back then, saved all our butts.
Not as much as Sam, but you know. Hard to compete with Sam in most things.