[Sat outside the police interview rooms, Chris was finally left in the quiet to let the full gravity of the situation fall on him. Everything that happened that night had snowballed into a pile of horrible shit. As it grows and grows he realises more and more than there's no way he can handle this. How can they face anything like a regular life any more?
He takes in a shuddery breath, head in his hands as he tries to calm himself. Josh was gone. Josh was fucking GONE and he didn't do enough to save him. Shit.
His inner self hate-rant was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and someone being ushered out. ]
[ By the time they let her out it felt as if she had spent hours sitting in that room, bright light shining down at her face, answering question after question after question. None of it really matters, the police don't believe her, don't believe any of them, but she answers and she pleads and she feels herself get angry as though that will be enough to swallow her grief.
They survived, sure, bruised and battered and broken in so many ways but alive. That's... she's glad, relieved, but not all of them made it out, not all of them are still standing here. Despite everything, despite what he did, Sam... god it makes her sick to her stomach to think of Josh, betrayal and grief rolling together in a wave of nausea.
It's just that much sharper when she is ushered out and Chris is standing there, that much harder to swallow as she steps towards him without hesitation. ]
Chris! [ Smile too worn, too tired, but she smiles regardless and throws her arms around him. ] God, are you alright?
[ Aches and pains aside, evidence of it all still clinging to her skin and her clothes. ]
[He returns the hug, shifting his weight a little so he can do so without resting on his fucked up leg. They talked about hospitals, but he's guessing there's going to be a long-ass time before any of them are going to get treated yet. ]
I'm thinking of a new nickname. Limpy Joe. Has a ring to it, doesn't it?
[Yeah, he's just going to...displace all the pain and terror with crappy jokes, don't mind him. ]
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He takes in a shuddery breath, head in his hands as he tries to calm himself. Josh was gone. Josh was fucking GONE and he didn't do enough to save him. Shit.
His inner self hate-rant was interrupted by the sound of a door opening, and someone being ushered out. ]
...Sam?
no subject
They survived, sure, bruised and battered and broken in so many ways but alive. That's... she's glad, relieved, but not all of them made it out, not all of them are still standing here. Despite everything, despite what he did, Sam... god it makes her sick to her stomach to think of Josh, betrayal and grief rolling together in a wave of nausea.
It's just that much sharper when she is ushered out and Chris is standing there, that much harder to swallow as she steps towards him without hesitation. ]
Chris! [ Smile too worn, too tired, but she smiles regardless and throws her arms around him. ] God, are you alright?
[ Aches and pains aside, evidence of it all still clinging to her skin and her clothes. ]
no subject
I'm thinking of a new nickname. Limpy Joe. Has a ring to it, doesn't it?
[Yeah, he's just going to...displace all the pain and terror with crappy jokes, don't mind him. ]
How are you holding up?