Fiction: The Night We Never Talk About
The Night We Never Talk About
"He was here with me that night. He doesn't spend much time...there, anymore. He says it feels haunted." The apartment that Rhys and Sunny had shared was longer their place, not a home anymore. Forever ruined by the emptiness of where she used to be, the sad looks and the whispers of "terrible, isn't it, what happened to the girl who lived there. She was so *nice*, too."
Even clean again, the traces of violence meticulously, obsessively scrubbed away in a fugue of grief, the spectres remained. Blue could see it in Jared's eyes every time she looked at him, in the stricken, battered way he carried himself.
"He never left the whole night because he was too drunk to stand up. I put him to bed around eleven, and he slept the whole night." Her green eyes narrowed, and she raised her head so that her mass of blond braids fell back. "He was the one who cleaned up the mess you assholes left, you know, all by himself."
"Thank you, miss. We'll be back if we have any more questions. But you should know the man accused of shooting Soledad Ferrara was killed Thursday night."
"Oh, good," Blue says witheringly. "At least someone got him."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Rhys actually hadn't turned up at Blue's until much later that night. Most of the evening, he spent by the water, a hollow-eyed ghost staring out over the still, dark glass of the river and trying not to think about anything. Cool, damp air that didn't quite take the taste of hot smoke and blood from him. Clouds rolling in, but no rain, not yet. Shocked, numb, feeling things without really feeling them.
Such fragile strings. Ours to pull, but not to cut.
Everything felt like wreckage, like brittle, burnt ash outlines, and if he breathed too hard it would all crumble and gust away. Afraid to step, to even move, for fear of bringing what little was left falling down.
If Sunny was watching him, it would be with such a sad look right now.
All the proof went into the water, just sank into the cold black and was gone, erased. Rhys half-wished he could, too. God, he was tired. Go home and sleep for a year, because he was done. Hollowed out, exhausted, just plain gutted, and maybe it hadn't fixed things, hadn't brought her back, but at least *something* had been set right. It somehow seemed like nothing had really changed, but in his head, he knew it had, he just couldn't feel it yet.
It wasn't the law, it might not even be justice, but at least Rhys had closed the circle. The chapter had been written, last pages daubed in blood but dammit, even if it wasn't what Sunny would have wanted, it was an ending. Because we're the ones that have to keep living and I couldn't, not with that left hanging.
And now, he...what? Just went home, went back to his life like all this had never happened? Cover over that huge, gaping hole like it wasn't there?
That was exactly what he was going to have to do.
-=-=--=-=-=-=-
It was late when Rhys knocked on Blue's door, blank and exhausted as a refugee and as ready to fall down as she'd ever seen him. She also knew right away that something profound had changed in her friend: something that might never come all the way back. She could smell it on him, heavy, resigned, and funereal, and after everything they'd already lost, it broke her heart just a little more.
"Jared? ...What did you do?" Her voice was so small and quiet in the room. She was afraid to ask, but somehow, looking into his eyes, she already knew.
But he can't answer, because the enormity of it still hasn't quite hit him.
"He was here with me that night. He doesn't spend much time...there, anymore. He says it feels haunted." The apartment that Rhys and Sunny had shared was longer their place, not a home anymore. Forever ruined by the emptiness of where she used to be, the sad looks and the whispers of "terrible, isn't it, what happened to the girl who lived there. She was so *nice*, too."
Even clean again, the traces of violence meticulously, obsessively scrubbed away in a fugue of grief, the spectres remained. Blue could see it in Jared's eyes every time she looked at him, in the stricken, battered way he carried himself.
"He never left the whole night because he was too drunk to stand up. I put him to bed around eleven, and he slept the whole night." Her green eyes narrowed, and she raised her head so that her mass of blond braids fell back. "He was the one who cleaned up the mess you assholes left, you know, all by himself."
"Thank you, miss. We'll be back if we have any more questions. But you should know the man accused of shooting Soledad Ferrara was killed Thursday night."
"Oh, good," Blue says witheringly. "At least someone got him."
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Rhys actually hadn't turned up at Blue's until much later that night. Most of the evening, he spent by the water, a hollow-eyed ghost staring out over the still, dark glass of the river and trying not to think about anything. Cool, damp air that didn't quite take the taste of hot smoke and blood from him. Clouds rolling in, but no rain, not yet. Shocked, numb, feeling things without really feeling them.
Such fragile strings. Ours to pull, but not to cut.
Everything felt like wreckage, like brittle, burnt ash outlines, and if he breathed too hard it would all crumble and gust away. Afraid to step, to even move, for fear of bringing what little was left falling down.
If Sunny was watching him, it would be with such a sad look right now.
All the proof went into the water, just sank into the cold black and was gone, erased. Rhys half-wished he could, too. God, he was tired. Go home and sleep for a year, because he was done. Hollowed out, exhausted, just plain gutted, and maybe it hadn't fixed things, hadn't brought her back, but at least *something* had been set right. It somehow seemed like nothing had really changed, but in his head, he knew it had, he just couldn't feel it yet.
It wasn't the law, it might not even be justice, but at least Rhys had closed the circle. The chapter had been written, last pages daubed in blood but dammit, even if it wasn't what Sunny would have wanted, it was an ending. Because we're the ones that have to keep living and I couldn't, not with that left hanging.
And now, he...what? Just went home, went back to his life like all this had never happened? Cover over that huge, gaping hole like it wasn't there?
That was exactly what he was going to have to do.
-=-=--=-=-=-=-
It was late when Rhys knocked on Blue's door, blank and exhausted as a refugee and as ready to fall down as she'd ever seen him. She also knew right away that something profound had changed in her friend: something that might never come all the way back. She could smell it on him, heavy, resigned, and funereal, and after everything they'd already lost, it broke her heart just a little more.
"Jared? ...What did you do?" Her voice was so small and quiet in the room. She was afraid to ask, but somehow, looking into his eyes, she already knew.
But he can't answer, because the enormity of it still hasn't quite hit him.