(no subject)
It'd been nearly a week since his mother's second death and Chris was slowly starting to feel human again. With the exception of going to the Compound for necessary showers and food and the occasional walk along the beach, Chris had largely been spending his time hidden in his hut with only Lennox for company. He was well aware that it was pretty pathetic and it wasn't something he was proud of, but he wasn't sure he really wanted to face anyone. Pity had been hard enough to handle the first time around.
Something still felt unfinished somehow and Chris wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the Island had taken away her dead body just as quickly and easily as it'd given the live one or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't spoken to his father at all beyond that night. Or maybe it was that he'd hardly spoken to anyone.
Whatever the case, something made Chris step out of the hut that morning and go to work. And he was glad for it, the weight of wood in his hand steadying him, giving him something useful to focus on aside from pure memory. The hours had passed quickly even as he felt Lennox keeping a constant, careful eye on him throughout.
When lunch approached, he'd decided to head up to the Compound, but found himself wandering to the rink instead, the cool air from the practice ice chilling his skin before he was even aware of it. Slowly, he breathed in, filling his lungs as he pushed a hand into his jeans pocket, feeling the small metal of the ring he kept there. And closed his eyes. Donald Foley's ashes had been put into a curling rock and Chris had apparently slid that stone onto the button to win the Golden Broom. Or so he'd been told.
His mother hadn't left any ashes and she deserved more than a curling rock, more than a trophy, more than anything he could think to give her.
"Fuck," Chris muttered under his breath and dropped onto the nearest bench, immediately leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his head hanging.
On the one hand, it'd been seventeen years, on the other it'd been less than a week. Either way, it still fucking hurt.
[OOC: Not a real great time to meet him for the first time, but friends and family are more than welcome. He's looking a bit worse for wear right now, with actual noticable facial hair from not shaving. ST/LT definitely welcome.]
Something still felt unfinished somehow and Chris wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the fact that the Island had taken away her dead body just as quickly and easily as it'd given the live one or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't spoken to his father at all beyond that night. Or maybe it was that he'd hardly spoken to anyone.
Whatever the case, something made Chris step out of the hut that morning and go to work. And he was glad for it, the weight of wood in his hand steadying him, giving him something useful to focus on aside from pure memory. The hours had passed quickly even as he felt Lennox keeping a constant, careful eye on him throughout.
When lunch approached, he'd decided to head up to the Compound, but found himself wandering to the rink instead, the cool air from the practice ice chilling his skin before he was even aware of it. Slowly, he breathed in, filling his lungs as he pushed a hand into his jeans pocket, feeling the small metal of the ring he kept there. And closed his eyes. Donald Foley's ashes had been put into a curling rock and Chris had apparently slid that stone onto the button to win the Golden Broom. Or so he'd been told.
His mother hadn't left any ashes and she deserved more than a curling rock, more than a trophy, more than anything he could think to give her.
"Fuck," Chris muttered under his breath and dropped onto the nearest bench, immediately leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his head hanging.
On the one hand, it'd been seventeen years, on the other it'd been less than a week. Either way, it still fucking hurt.
[OOC: Not a real great time to meet him for the first time, but friends and family are more than welcome. He's looking a bit worse for wear right now, with actual noticable facial hair from not shaving. ST/LT definitely welcome.]