Devils and Angels

xviii. ask no questions

n o v a t u r i e n t

seeking powerful change in one's situation

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IT TOOK TWENTY MINUTES OF me hammering relentlessly on the Jones' door before it finally peeled beneath my relentlessness and I was able to close myself off to the cold, bulleting myself into Archie's arms instead.

He stumbled back at the sudden shock of my arms shooting around him, but accepted it regardless, offering a watery, pained smile to my watchful look, as I asked if we could go upstairs and he nodded his response.

His bed was unmade, and his curtains drawn to the now-pissing slate sky; the faintest crack of early afternoon unable to penetrate the weathered, miserable darkness of his bedroom. The sight was blood pounding; headache-inducing, and piles of old dishes and crumpled, moulding wrappers and enmired containers cluttered the usually-pristine floor, making me watch every step before perching on the edge of his bed.

Archie crashed down beside me, almost disregarding the fact I was there. I sighed, peering at him over my shoulder, before giving in and scooting around to face him.

"You can't hide forever," I said, eyes dead on him. His own were lacklustre with apathy; dipped in surrender and burning holes into his old pyjama trousers; refusing to take me in, not even for a moment. "Archie. I miss you. We're all worried."

"Well, I'm terrified," He refuted, shrinking into himself, hunching low and crushing himself into a ball. "I'm not comfortable with this. This isn't fair―Ayden was always ready, and I wasn't, and now...well, the choice has been taken away from me, hasn't it?"

"Arch, I'm sorry," I tried, putting my hand on his leg in an act of comfort. "We're trying to work out who did this. We don't plan to give up anytime soon, either."

Archie's stare became intent; soulless and pinned to mine, with no signs of drawing away, even for an instant. "Don't bother. It won't change anything. People already know, and I can't take that back. Goddammit, Kat, my own mother can't even look me in the eyes anymore."

"That sucks." I bit my lip, offering my hand to him the way Caspian did for me. "It really does, and I know finding whoever did it won't change that, but...don't you want to know who did this? Because they shouldn't be able to get away with it."

"Kat..." He released a groan. "No. I don't. I don't care. 'Cause it's not about me, is it?"

"It is, it is so about you," I murmured, smiling slightly when his palm fell into mine. He shook his head at me, the tight line of his lips negating my smile.

"It was never about me. It was never about Ayden. It was always about you," He said, voice thick with caution and exhaustion. "That's why I don't want to know any more than I do. I don't want to know what you did, or what happened, for Caspian to want to do this."

"Caspian?" A gasp left my lips; I felt my features succumb to the disbelief that seemed to resound through my veins and pit in the bottom of my stomach. "What does he―you're not trying to―there's no way―,"

"It's just a feeling," He said in earnest, but I felt it ran much deeper than that, deeper than he'd let be visible to me. "But I know you must have done something to him, Kat. He wouldn't act this way on his own."

"He wouldn't act this way with anyone." A sob of shock jammed in my throat, and I swallowed it down in haste. "And I didn't fucking do anything to him."

"Hey." Archie's grip tightened around my hand, near-crushing my fingers. "Why are you getting mad?"

"Because you're implying this is mine and Caspian's fault. As if we'd ever do this to you," I uttered, tearing my hand away from his. "We've been trying to help you. I―I've been here for you your whole goddamn life, you piece of shit!"