///Eight Months Earlier///
"You're sure he didn't say anything to either of you?" The officer's gruff voice asks.
I tighten my arms around Awsten. I can feel him steadily shaking. The vibrations rack through his body as his hands cling to the back of my shirt.
"Aws?" I try. He whimpers and shakes his head slightly.
"He didn't," I reply unsteadily. The officer nods and closes his notebook.
"Give the station a call if you think of anything, and we'll let you know if we find anything." He gives us a look of sympathy and walks away.
I hold Awsten tighter.
A few feet away, two more cops come out of the front door of our house. Another one leads a police dog out of the back yard. They pack up quickly, then leave. They found nothing. It's like he disappeared into thin air.
Awsten finally starts sobbing. His broken breaths convulse through his abdomen and I hold him, trying to keep him whole. I knew he'd been holding off until the police left.
Yesterday, Geoff never came home from the store. We couldn't get ahold of him, and he still wasn't back this morning. It's late afternoon now, and we called the cops two hours ago. They searched and questioned, but ultimately came up empty. We'll all keep trying though. For Geoff.
"Where is h-he, Otto?" Awsten asks. I can't answer, so I bury my face into his shoulder.
***
///One Month Later///
One month has passed since Geoff went missing. There are still no leads, and there are whispers that the police department is getting tired, and considering marking the case as cold due to lack of evidence.
It horrifies me to even think about telling Awsten that the cops are ready to give up, but at the same time I understand it. I will never give up on finding Geoff, but we need to consider that maybe he doesn't want to be found. That's what the police think, anyway.
As I sit on the couch in the quiet of the house, I ponder the idea of bringing that up to Awsten, but quickly dismiss it. I think of how raw his eyes were after the police left, after he finally went to sleep while clinging to me like I might disappear too. He had rubbed them so much, muttering about how he didn't wanna be a crybaby, only to start crying again. He was scared, and I was too.
We both still are.
Now, he barely speaks. His throat is always sore. It hurts to talk. I always ask him why his throat is bothering him, and he always shrugs. We've gotten good at communicating non-verbally, but I want to know why his throat is always a mess.
It's nearing three in the morning, and I know I need to go to bed. I haven't stayed up this late since I was a teenager, which wasn't that long ago, but still. I stand up with a grunt and quietly start making my way upstairs. I walk past Awsten's room in the dark hallway, but something makes me stop.
A noise. It sounds like inky black sadness seeping out of the walls. It creeps out from under Awsten's door and tries to crawl up my legs, but isn't able to lift it's own heaviness.
Awsten is crying- no, Awsten is sobbing. He's choking. Gasping into the quiet night air, straining to keep quiet. I can just barely hear him through his closed door.
I put my hand on the icy doorknob and twist it. As soon as the door creaks open, everything goes quiet. I open it completely and stare at the lump on the bed.
Awsten is curled in on himself, his back to me. He isn't breathing. It dawns on me that he's trying to pretend to be asleep.
I quickly stride across the room to him. Reaching the foot of his bed, I climb onto it and crawl up next to him. I can't see his face in the darkness, but I wrap my arms around him and crush him to me.
"Breathe Aws, it's okay," I whisper, and he takes a shuddering breath. He hiccups a couple of times and throws his arm over my waist, pulling me closer.
"M-my throat hurt-ts."
"I know."
***
///Two Months Later///
The girl at the front desk looks at me with sympathy. I think her name is Chloe, but I'm not sure. My vision is too blurry to read her name tag.
"I'm so sorry, there's nothing I can do," she says, and I nod.
"S'okay, I understand," I reply, and turn away from her. How am I going to tell Awsten?
Just then, two police officers come through the room, struggling with a man in handcuffs. The man is tall, with lots of tattoos. He has an air of intimidation around him, and his heavy combat boots hit the ground harshly.
A shiver runs up my spine as I realize that if Geoff isn't choosing to remain hidden, he could be being held prisoner by someone like this man.
I exit the police station swiftly. A few tears slipping out of my eyes as I clamber into my car. I rest my forehead against the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath, I find the strength to keep myself together long enough to drive home.
The drive home is very sepia. Everything still has it's color, but it's heavily tainted. The past few months have held so much desperation and hope, but now, it all seems to be in vain.
There are no leads, and now, no case.
I pull up to the house. It's so devoid of life, so hollow. Monochrome waves vibrate off of it, dissolving into the colorful world that stays unaffected by Geoff's disappearance. The laughs we all used to share echo faintly from the windows. Sweet words between Awsten and Geoff whisper through the air.
I crawl out of my thoughts and slowly get out of the car. The air seems to grow colder as I get closer to the house.
Opening the door, I listen through the quietness for Awsten. He still isn't up. It's nearing noon, but it doesn't matter. He's wrecked his sleep schedule by staying up crying half the night for the past couple of months, so now he can't get to sleep until the early early hours of the morning.
At least now he's stopped crying well into the night, but blankly staring at his bedroom ceiling isn't much better.
I silently climb the stairs, feeling exhausted already. Just hearing the news made me tired, longing to exit reality for a few hours, and now I have to tell Awsten. He'll never forgive me if I keep an update to myself.
His door creaks open as I push it, and I take in his sleeping form. I always thought that, even in the worst of times, people could always find peace in their sleep. God, I was wrong.
I remember the numerous times I've wondered down the hallway, early in the morning, and seen Geoff in Awsten's bed. He would often make his way into the purple-haired boy's room after waking up too early, and leave the door open. Awsten would always look so peaceful and content, like nothing was wrong in the world.
Now, his breathing is shallow with sadness, and the skin around his eyes seems to be permanently tinged red. He's curled in on himself, trying to find some form of comfort in his own body.
He looks anything but peaceful.
I stumble over to his bed and crouch down in front of him. My hand gently shakes his shoulder, and his raw eyes painstakingly pry open. He looks at me for a few second before carefully wrapping his arms around my neck and pulling himself to me. He hugs me, and I instantly wrap my arms around his torso.
"Why are you crying?" He whispers out. I can't answer yet, so I just bury my face in his shoulder.
We stay there for a while. I absolutely loathe the idea of telling him. It's going to hurt him, and God knows he's been hurt enough, but I know we'll get through it. We have each other, and as long as that stays true I know we can keep moving forward. There's still a lot of ground left to cover, seeing as Geoff's only been gone for three months, but we'll take it one day at a time. It'll be okay.
I just have to convince Awsten of that.
"I just got back from the police department," I whisper, half hoping he doesn't hear me.
"What? Why were you there? What'd they say?" Awsten asks, tensing up and pulling away.
I sigh and stand up. He sits up in bed. I wonder briefly how he's going to react. Will he start crying? Will he admit that he's already accepted that there are no leads? Will he get angry?
"They called and asked me to come in. They said they needed to tell me something," I reply, and watch as he clutches at his blanket.
He knows I have bad news.
"Tell me," he strains out.
"They closed the case. It's a cold case now," I state, my voice slowly lowering into a whisper.
He stares at me. Something behind his eyes is struggling to react to what I said. A deep purple cloud of confusion emits from him. It's disorienting and clunky. Thunder starts rolling through the cloud when his eyebrows pull down into an angry expression.
"What do you mean?" He demands, and stands quickly. I stumble back slightly and open my mouth to repeat myself, but he cuts me off.
"That's fucking ridiculous! Why would they just give up? He's still out there! He could be hurt!" He spits out, and starts aggressively pacing the room.
"Aws, they said that in most cases like this, with no evidence or leads, it's highly likely that he left willingly," I try to reason with him.
"No! Shut up! This is fucked!" He shouts, his hand striking out at random objects on his desk. "He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't leave me!"
A jar of pencils fly across the room and shatter against the wall. The noise jolts me, and I watch as he clenched his fists, ready to hit something even harder. I launch forward and wrap my arms around him from behind, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggles against me for a second, and then goes limp.
I slide to the ground with him, and shift my position so I can face him. I pull him to my chest as he lets out a shuddering breath. I shush him softly and rub his back slowly, rocking us back and forth ever so slightly.
"M'sorry, m'sorry," he repeats in a hollow whisper. He begins to shake as he keeps repeating apologies.
"It's okay, everything is gonna be okay. I promise."
***
///Four Months Later///
The lemony clean smell hits me as soon as I open the front door. The floors are shiny, and the books on the coffee table are perfectly straight. The blankets on the couch are folded neatly, and the shelves have been dusted. I hum in contentment.
Geoff has been gone for seven months now, and things are finally moving forward. I miss him every day, and I still resent the police for giving up so easily, but there isn't much anyone can do.
Awsten struggles to do basic things, so coming home to see that he's cleaned the living room warms my heart. I hop up the stairs and make my way to his room.
He's sitting cross-legged in the center of his bed, looking out of the open window, and seems to be having a peaceful moment.
Thank God. He deserves it.
The atmosphere in his room is filled with feather-light, silvery, glittery specks of hope and peace. Hope for the strength to get better and let go, and peaceful acceptance that maybe Geoff isn't coming back.
I quietly approach him, not wanting to disturb the moment. He glances over at me, and for the first time in a long while, he smiles slightly. His eyes still hold sorrow, but he's moving forward.
That's what counts.
He opens his arms and I crawl onto the bed with him. We hold each other and breathe in the refreshing, but sorrow-tinted, flecks of silver together. They coat our lungs and send shivers of acceptance through our veins.
It's such a freeing feeling. Quiet after so much noise. A storm disappearing.
"I hope he's fine there. Wherever he is," Awsten whispers out. I make a sound of agreement, and we fall into silence once more.
A few quiet moments pass. They aren't completely soundless, though. There's a lot happening internally for both of us. It's like a dull hum. A machine concealed in a closed off corner of a house.
"Thank you for cleaning the living room. It looks really good," I whisper, and he softly tightens his arms around me.
"Thank you," he whispers back, so low I almost miss it.
"For what?" I ask.
"For staying. For being my best friend. For taking care of me these past few months, even though you were hurting too," he mumbles.
I squeeze him. "Of course."
...