Warning: Angst.
The song I'm mentioning is Le Temps des Cerises, that I used in the chapter of the same name, when they went to the lake house in the summer. I think this my longest chapter so far, I hope you'll like it.
Photo by Yener Ozturk
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The bar door opens again, revealing a shivering customer, accompanied by a gust of icy wind.
"Damn it Cole, close the door!"
Derek groans as he wipes the counter in front of him. The snowstorm has finally calmed down, but it's still so cold. He turns to Chloe, seeing her worried face staring out the doors, nervously waiting for them to open to the person she wants to see. She wasn't even supposed to be on duty tonight. But she knows that this is where she would hear the news from the patrollers the fastest.
"They must have stopped for shelter because of this damn storm. Man, I can't wait for spring to come up. At least you know why he's late this time. Stop worrying, I don't wanna listen to you complain about your wrinkles again."
She chuckles lightly before getting back to work. Despite his words, she can't help but worry. When she joined Maria at the office that morning, she told her that she had sent Jesse to meet up Joel and Tommy after their short night. They should have been back by early afternoon. When she left the office around five, they still hadn't come home.
Slowly, the bar fills up, the locals preferring to get together after this day in the harsh weather. She's so overwhelmed by orders that she stops raising her head every time the doors open. The evening is already well advanced when Maria approaches the counter.
"Chloe, can I talk to you?
-Yeah, just give me a sec'."
She doesn't immediately notice the serious tone of the blonde. It's only when she looks up at her after serving a drink that she notices her elder's anguish. She moves her head and sees Tommy outside, waiting. And so, she knows. But she doesn't want to know. She doesn't want to hear.
In a vain hope to save her, her mind snaps, ordering her to create a diversion. She takes off her apron and walks around the counter to get her coat from the door.
"I must go home, I promised Joel that I would make his favorite dinner and it's about time I got down to it. He'll be starving after all this time out.
-Chloe.
-I'm sorry, I really don't have time. We'll talk tomorrow."
Her voice grew sharper, more nervous. All are looking towards them now. Everyone understood.
"Chloe.
-No, Maria. No. Please. Don't say it. Joel is waiting for me at home, I have to go find him... "
The firm tone of her voice cuts, her breathing too short for her to speak. Tommy walks in, tears rolling down his battered face. They didn't want to tell her like that, in the middle of the bar. But they don't really have a choice anymore. He approaches her.
She looks towards him, her head like her mouth saying no. Without her knowing it, tears have already started to roll down her cheeks. Joel would always come to the bar if his patrol had been too long, knowing that she would probably be there to occupy her mind. If he had been injured, they would have come running for her. She knows. She knows the words that will pass Tommy's mouth as he looks at her, his face twisted with pain.
The young woman continues to shake her head. She would like to run away. Go home to find him, his eternal smirk on his lips. He would tell her "where have you been Honey Girl?" before hugging her tenderly. Then they would go to bed. Maybe they would make love. She wants to run away but her body refuses to move, only her mouth cries out no without stopping. And then, the dreaded words are heard.
"I'm sorry Chloe. He won't come home. Joel's dead."
He has barely finished that a scream escapes the young woman. Terrible, bestial, coming from the depths of her soul. Her legs give way, Tommy grabs her to cushion her fall. Folded in half on the ground, her cries tear away the silence that has formed around them. Nobody knows what to do. Even Maria, usually so reserved, cries openly.
Chloe is shrieking now, without even realizing it. As if her brain had disconnected. But they hear it. And all would remember her howls of pain for a long time, as well as the vision of Tommy leaning over her, holding her as best he can as he too mourns his brother.
The last time she had screamed like that, it was he who held her. He who helped her out. He who had held her in his arms tirelessly, until she could breathe on her own again. How was she going to breathe without him to hold her hand?
Forehead on the ground, hands clinging to the floor, her fingernails scratch the wood, bleeding from the splinters that dig into it. As if she was trying to bury herself in it, to disappear in the ground. Far away from this reality.
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"We... We have to wait here, until they finish to prepare him."
Gently, he sits her down. Stunned, she no longer feels much. As if an explosion had twisted her ears. She doesn't even really know how she got there. One moment she was behind the bar, laughing at the stupidities of the regulars. The other, she finds herself surrounded by the gray walls of the infirmary, waiting to see the body of the man she loves.
She had never cared that they were that color. Cold as steel. Strange. The whole town is warm, wooden. And here she feels like she's in an industrial complex. In a QZ. She needs to talk to Maria about it. They should repaint the walls in a warm beige. Or maybe blue. Something that will make forget the smell of wounds and death.
She shivers, slowly coming to herself. Beside her, Tommy stopped looking at her. He plays with his fingers nervously, not knowing how to occupy his body and his thoughts. Last hour, he had focused on her. Taking care of her so as not to sink. He looks up at her as she finally speaks, for the first time since they told her.
"Tell me what happened.
-The... The storm was raging. We found ourselves surrounded by this horde. They were everywhere. I had never seen so many. While looking for a way out, he came across this girl, Abby. She was about to be bitten, so he saved her. The three of us fought to get out of this. Her group had taken refuge in Baldwin Mansion. It was our best shot to escape the horde. There were too many of them, we couldn't have come back here, it was too dangerous. Once there, her group seemed friendly, as harmless as any other group of travelers we usually come across. But... when they heard our names... They blacked me out. I don't know exactly what happened next. But Ellie... Ellie arrived later, and she saw... Abby beat him up."
He utters the last sentence under his breath as she opens wide her scared, shocked eyes. When he spoke of a horde, she thought Joel had been swept away by them, trying to save his brother and himself. Not that he survived to better be killed by a stranger. Her brain hurts, as if shaken by thousands of thoughts that collide and try to escape, bouncing through the walls of her skull.
She still has a hard time realizing what is happening to her. To realize that in a few moments she will see his lifeless body. The door opens, letting Maria out. They can go, he's ready. Tommy stands up, Chloe follows but stops.
"Wait. Just a second. Please."
He turns to her, pained. Staring into the void, breathing fast, she speaks in a monotonous voice.
"There's still a part of me that thinks he's out there somewhere, and we're shortly going to meet at home as usual. But as soon as you open the door, it will be over. And I'm not ready. Not ready to believe he's dead.
-But he is."
She turns around. Ellie is there. Chloe didn't even realize she was in the same room as her. She stares at her like she hasn't seen her in months, years. Her face is wounded. Without thinking, Chloe walks over and hugs her. The young girl closes her arms around her, like a reflex. They remain like this for a few moments before detaching. Chloe slips her hand into the girl's, squeezing it tight. The other lets herself do, even if she's uncomfortable. But maybe that touch is what she needs too.
Maria turns to Chloe, the words coming out with difficulty. The others already know, but she doesn't. She has to warn her, even if nothing could really prepare her for it.
"Before coming in, you need to know. His face. They did their best, but he was badly beaten."
Chloe raises her free hand. She understood. She doesn't want to hear more. She just wants to come in and be done. But it will never be done. The door opens and it's like a punch in her stomach. He's still far away, she can't see him well yet, but she knows it's him. She begins to realize that this is all very real.
She knows this room all too well. This is where she woke up, after he saved her. Her first vision of Jackson. And now he's here in turn, dead. She lets go of Ellie's hand and walks over to the table. The others stay behind. Even if they need to be near him as well, they have seen him before. They know. Chloe... She still has to figure it out. Understand that it's him lying there. That if she closes her eyes, even just for a moment, it won't change a thing.
They did their best to wipe off the marks of the beatings, the blood, but his face is still damaged. A large cut slashes his left cheek, like a dry ditch. His eye is swelled, although they tried to fix it by puncturing some blood. Their job is not ideal, but it has been a long time since anyone knew body beautification techniques.
She's near him now. His fingers are already cold and hard against hers. She knows very well that he is no longer there. Never had his fingers felt like that under her caresses. But if her brain understands, her heart refuses to see the obvious. It's her man laying there. The one who held her so many times in those arms, caressed her so many times with those hands. He's here, she can touch him, so how could he be dead?
It's the first time she has to face death in this way. They had never recovered her father's body. She had run away from her mother's last breath. She didn't know what had happened to Cyril's. And she had refused to see Eugene, wanting to keep a living image of him.
She lifts her head to his face again, ignoring the wounds. It's like he's sleeping. Slowly, her hand strokes his forehead, then creeps into his hair. They are still a bit wet under her fingers. They must have been covered in blood, her brain throws at her like a murderous pike. She ignores it, continuing to play with his long locks with a tender gesture.
"Are you going to let them grow like Tommy's?
-Nah, I'll stop before. Why, don't you like it?
-You could shave your head, you'd still be hot. But don't, I love your hair, especially like that. You look like a movie star."
Tears flow again at this memory, silent. Her mouth opens, her body is taken with spasms but no sound escapes from her throat. It's Maria who walks up this time, resting her hand on her arm. Chloe turns around and lets herself go against the shoulder of this friend, this sister.
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She hadn't sleep. She stayed next to his body all this time, leaving his side only to give Ellie, then Tommy, some privacy with him. In the waiting room, Maria tried to convince her to go lay down. But she couldn't. She was just nervously waiting for the moment she'll be allowed to be back at his side.
By dint of persuasion, Dina and Maria manage to get Ellie out for her wounds to be treated. Tommy still refuses, promising he would go after her. Chloe walks back into the room, sitting down next to Joel. She strokes his face before resting her forehead against his cold temple. She starts humming that old French song they had listened to at the lake house the previous summer. A century ago. When it seemed to them that they would live forever.
I keep in my heart
An open wound
And Lady Fortune, being offered to me
will never be able to ease my pain
Would those words have brought her any comfort if she had understood them? Probably not. She slowly sits up and gets up, going around the table. With her fingertips, she plays with his wedding ring, before climbing onto his wrist to undo the strap of his watch. Tommy gazes at her doing it, eyes narrowed. This watch had never been taken off, not once since the day his niece gave it to his brother. In a hoarse voice, he questions her, perhaps a little harsher than he intended.
"What are you doing?
-What he asked me."
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"When I'm gone, I want-
-Please, not again. Can you stop talking like you're gonna die soon? We all know that you are going to drive us nuts for another twenty years, minimum."
The man can't help but smile at his wife's annoyed tone, almost sounding like it bores her to be around him for another two decades. He gently strokes her hair as she lies against him, a book in her hand. She stands up to face him.
"Come on, kiss me old man."
He smiles again and does so, cupping her cheek in his hand, softly stroking the skin with his thumb. Their lips part and they remain silent as she rests her head against his shoulder. After a few moments, she sighs and gives up.
"Come on, tell me what you wanted.
-My watch. I want Ellie to have it."
She looks down at the arm wrapped around her waist. With her fingertips, she strokes the long-cracked glass dial. She waits for him to add something, but nothing comes. Usually when he brings up the subject, he insists longer, only stopping when she can't hear any more, tears streaming down her cheeks. But not today. Who knows what went through his mind as he brought this up.
His left hand straightens up to capture her fingers in his, his thumb gently stroking hers. She says in a low voice, almost absent.
"I would have thought you wanted to be buried with it.
-No. Where I go, I won't need it anymore."
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She can feel all their looks on her. Trying to see how she's coping. She's not. And she would want to yell, to tell them to go to hell before running away, turning her back on this casket that descends to the ground, making everything so real and so brutal. Back in the infirmary, she could still lie to herself, trick her brain into believing that he was just asleep, that he just needed to rest after the beatings his body received.
But here, there is no more lying. She remains paralyzed, at the mercy of those piercing eyes which only wish her good. She can barely react. She isn't even listening to what people are saying in their last homage to Joel. All she can hear is his voice in her head, singing Hallelujah.
Is she supposed to sing it too? Is she supposed to speak? Would it have been something important for him that she says something? Would he have said something for her if their situations had been reversed? He was modest, he would surely not have spread out his sentiments to the public. He would have let the others speak. Maybe he wouldn't even have come, avoiding his feelings again. Yes. She is sure of it. But did he want her to act like him?
She shivers as a gust of wind adds ominousness to this already bleak moment. Molly tightens her grip on her, gently stroking her arm. On the other side is Tommy, just inches from her. He spoke, recounting a stupid childhood memory that made them all smile, before reminding everyone of the good and righteous man his brother was. The care he paid to his family and the community. To his wife. She lowers her head. She wants him to shut up. She doesn't want to hear anyone say how great he was anymore. She just wants him to be there, again, to show it to her.
People take turns to throw a handful of dirt on the coffin, but she doesn't move. Perfectly immobile. Gently, Molly asks if she wants help to approach, but she shakes her head. She doesn't want to make this ridiculous tradition. She doesn't want to be haunted forever by this gesture, by this image of this cold, dark hole that he will never leave again.
Her breathing quickens as her friend leaves her side to do it for her. She feels exposed. She doesn't want to be there. She wants to go home and throw herself into his arms. He would hug her, repeating words she wouldn't hear, just reassured by his deep voice.
A wave of grief rises in her. She doesn't want to cry. She doesn't want to take any more pity from those strangers staring at her. Maria must feel it as she walks over to her, discreetly sliding her hand into hers. They exchange a quick glance and suddenly, Chloe feels a little less alone. As if he were there with them.
Little by little, people are leaving the cemetery. Maria is gone, Tommy lingered a bit before joining his wife. A wake takes place at their home. But she can't go. Not yet. Feeling the stares. The hands that would touch her in an attempt to bring her comfort. It's beyond her strength. She just wants to disappear. With the snap of a finger, no longer being. No longer feel.
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"We should go.
-I need more time."
She manages to pronounce, in a voice she doesn't even recognize. She feels tired, old. Seeing her livid face, Molly forces her to sit on a bench in front of the freshly closed grave. Across the aisle, she sees Ellie walking away with Dina and Jesse. She is reassured to see her surrounded by her friends. She couldn't have been of much help to her right now. One drowned cannot save another.
The two women go without a word for a long time, maybe an hour. It's only when she starts to shiver that Molly forces her to leave the area. She lets it go, agreeing to go to the wake. There are still a few people there, although the majority of people have slipped away, leaving the family to their grief. Maria walks up to them, offering Chloe a hot cup of tea to warm her up. She barely takes a sip or two, refusing any food, as she has since knowing he's dead.
To escape the insistence of the two women, she walks into the living room, sitting down in an armchair by the fire. She gazes into it, concentrating on the movement of the flames to forget how she feels. Empty. Alone.
Every now and then she looks up, when someone enters the room. Each time, she hopes it's him. And then she remembers, and it's like another blow to her heart. Soon she completely closes herself to her surroundings. She tries to protect herself, to no longer hear the voices, to no longer feel the sad looks on her.
Little by little, people are leaving the place, leaving her alone. The few who would have wanted to speak to her are dissuaded by Molly. She knows that her friend does not want their words, their gestures. It's too early. Soon her and Chris are the last remaining, along with Derek, who's seated silently next to the young woman. The couple help Maria tidying up, while Tommy is out. He needed a walk in the fresh air, a futile attempt to clear his mind.
When he comes home, there is only his wife left, nervously drinking a glass of wine in the kitchen. They both remain silent, their gazes avoiding each other before finally meeting. In the eyes of her husband, Maria sees sadness, fatigue too. But above all, she sees a gleam that she knows all too well and that terrifies her. That of violence. That of thirst for blood. He wants to avenge his brother, she knows it. She even understands it. But the idea terrifies her. She can't lose him. She couldn't bear it.
She feels that the subject is going to come on the table, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want to argue with him, not tonight. So she diverts the conversation to her other concern. Chloe. She tried to get her to eat, to convince her to get up and go lie down upstairs, in what was her bedroom during the short month she had lived with them, before going to Joel's place.
He sighs before leaving the room, with no hope of doing better than his wife. In the living room, Chloe is still lost in a corner of her mind. He slowly approaches, adding a log to the fire before turning to her. He offers her something to eat and drink, but she refuses with a weak nod of her head. He gets the same answer when he suggests her to go to bed. He's about to leave when her voice stops him.
"His watch... His watch and his gun. Don't forget to give them to Ellie. That's what he wanted.
-Don't worry about that now.
-No, she needs them."
For the first time in hours, she looks at someone, gazing straight into Tommy's eyes. He freezes when he sees the determined glow that inhabits them. He wonders if she knows about Ellie's will of vengeance. But before he can ask a single question, Chloe is back in her shell again. He bites his lip. What would Joel think if he saw her like that? At this moment, she looks like those people he would see on documentaries about psychiatric institutions from the previous century, whose minds had been erased by too violent methods. He swallows hard before leaving the room, leaving her alone in her haze.
---
"She still hasn't eaten a thing. I'm worried Tommy."
The man squeezes his wife's arm in a comforting gesture. That's all that remains for the living, a few gestures, a few words that are futile but must be expressed, must be heard. He walks into his living room, watching Chloe's figure from a distance, in the same position she had when he left to talk to Ellie.
She didn't eat, she didn't sleep. She didn't come out of the shell she built around her mind to protect herself. She didn't hear the screams and arguments from Maria and Tommy. His desire for revenge, Ellie. She doesn't know what's going on around her. She remains staring into the fire, her mind lost in a fog that only she can see. Derek, Molly, tried to talk to her, to get her moving. To change her clothes at least. But no one could convince her. They all ended up staying silent by her side, hoping that their presence could at least give her some comfort.
"Hey sweetheart."
She barely looks up at Tommy as he comes and crouches next to her. She doesn't come out of her catatonia until he puts his hand on hers.
"What about you eat something?"
Her eyes flicker back into void. He sighs and glances behind him. Maria is on the doorstep, biting her nails. Rare were the times when she showed her anguish and her emotions in this way, even in front of her husband. He looks back at Chloe as her weak and somewhat damaged voice is heard.
"You know what I'm thinking about? This Abby... You told me he saved her. And he saved me. He was killed by a girl he saved... I was a girl he saved, he really saved my life. And I was his life after that. And now he's dead because of another girl that he saved. Isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard?"
He shushes her softly while squeezing her hand a little harder, as her voice becomes sharper, more nervous.
"He saved me, he saved her, and now he's dead. She was saved and she took him from me. He saved me and he saved her. He saved me. He saved her. He- "
Her words are chopped, as if swallowed on their way out. Soon they don't even come out and are supplanted by a thunderous, frightening laugh. Her nerves are failing. Little by little, her chuckles are replaced by tears and cries. Tommy comes to hold her, strongly, hoping to calm her hysteria. But no one has broad enough shoulders to hold her. Only him was able to soothe her. And he was gone.
Maria enters the room, distraught. Her husband yells at her to get the doctor, while he's trying to calm the young woman. Chloe is crying and she thinks that any minute now he will arrive to hold her and make her feel better, like all those times in the past. Then she remembers, and it's like electric shocks tearing her body apart. He will never hold her again.
She is screaming now, struggling to free herself from Tommy's arms trying to calm her down. Fatigue, shock, completely deprived her mind of sanity. Her body behaves but she feels dead inside. Like one of those infected, unconscious, having just pain, violence to be brought out.
When the doctor finally arrives, Tommy and Maria have to work together to hold her so that he can inject her with a powerful tranquilizer. Quickly, the spasms in her body subsides. She wrestles but her eyes eventually close. She hasn't slept a single minute since the day he died, exhausting her body and her soul.
Stunned, she barely senses when Tommy lifts her up to lead her to the bedroom. For a moment, she thinks she is in his arms. So, through her tears, she smiles.
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This hurt so much but I loved writing it. I love writing sad things and especially grieving, but I've no idea why. A lot of ideas behind these few chapters were actually written for a long time. After writing all this fluff and smut, I almost consider cutting them from my story, especially last night when I felt so low and sad, I just wanted to write about them being cute and in love again, but I still love what I wrote a few weeks/months back so yeah, I decided to keep it that way. I think that's also why I had trouble writing the previous chapter, since I knew it would be my real last opportunity to write about them in a cute way, without any bittersweet feeling. Anyway, I hope you don't all hate me and will stick around. I think we still have like 8-10 chapters to go.