667: Issue #12 "Gone Girl"

“No one ever told me that grief felt so much like fear.”

~CS Lewis

Ten months, two days, fourteen hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

That’s how long it had been since I last saw her face and even though I fought so hard to commit it to memory, the image of her was slowly fading from my mind in a blur of lavender and white.

I thought about her every day, every hour. I dreamed about her. I saw her in everything that I looked at from Claire’s worn copy of Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Scarlet to my Blood of the Fallen shirt that I kept tucked into my back pocket because it still smelled like her.

Yes, I had isolated myself from almost everyone and drowned myself in alcohol. Yes, I wasn’t eating like I was supposed to or showering on a regular basis. Yes, my grieving probably wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t shake the last moments of her from my mind.

I wondered if this was how she felt when she saw me get…

“Adam? Are you awake, brotha?” Henri’s voice sounded meek on the other side of the door.

“No,” I grumbled, burying my face into my pillow.

“I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.” The knob turned and in walked Henri with a tall glass of orange juice.

I sighed loudly and flipped over in the bed before sitting up accompanied by a symphony of crinkling fast food wrappers.

“This place is a mess, Adam. Trash everywhere, empty liquor bottles on the floor, and that laundry pile is out of control.” Henri handed me the orange juice as he kicked an empty rum bottle under the bed before he sat down.

“Very observant of you.” My words were flat as I gulped the juice.

“And you stink. When was the last time you showered?” Henri pinched his nose.

I just shrugged.

“I get it, brotha. Even if I can’t experience your emotions, your grief—I get it. But this isn’t healthy. You’re lucky that you work with your friend because you would have been fired by now and you’re even luckier that you live with me because you’d be out on the street otherwise. I know that loss is hard and everyone grieves in their own way, but you have got to get it together. Do you think that she’d approve of this? Do you think that she’d want you moping about feeling sorry for yourself, sorry for her, when you should be out there trying to figure out what the fuck Asher is up to and where the rest of your kind stands at this point?” Henri just dove right into a lecture.

But he was right.

I stared at him blankly for a moment. I tried to make my mind work and think of something else that wasn’t this loss.

Come on, Smaug. You’re better than this. You’re stronger than this. Get your arse up and fight!

I could hear the words I knew Violet would be telling me if she were standing right in front of me.

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I gotta get my shit together; this isn’t like me.” I smoothed my greasy hair back and took two deep breaths.

“That’s my brotha. Get your nasty, stinky ass a shower and meet me out in the living room. We need to talk a little bit more.” Henri patted my back before exiting the room.

I took another deep breath, mentally preparing myself to do something other than wallow in my own self-loathing and then got up from the bed for a shower before I went to talk some more with Henri

Apparently, we had company.

I came out of my room all fresh and clean to find Khaine and Salome sitting on the sofa.

“Heeeeey.” I felt rather awkward as if the last time I had seen them I had done something to embarrass myself.

“Hey, dude. How you feeling?” Khaine got up from the couch to give me a hug.

“Great.” I lied.

“Sure. You seem great.” Sal nodded knowingly, giving me a hug in turn.

It had been a while since I had seen them; I hadn’t left my room much in the past few months, let alone the house.

“So, what’s up?” I knew that something wasn’t right as the three of them eyed me cautiously like I was some flight risk.

“I want you outta my house.” Henri had his hands on his hips as he spoke.

“Excuse me?” His words caught me off guard.

“I need you to get out, brotha. Pack a bag; you’re going to go live with the others for a bit. I don’t care if you want to or not, but me coddling and enabling you isn’t doing anyone any favors. I’m not kicking you out, so don’t panic, but I want you to get back into the game and you can’t do that sulking in your bedroom every day.” Henri was giving me his stern look, so I know he meant business.

Part of me wanted to be angry, agitated about being forced to deal with this…but they were right. I wasn’t doing anyone any favors in this state and I knew Violet would have scolded the hell out of me if she were here.

“You’re right. I need to get out and move on.” I nodded, my hands deep in my pockets.

“That was easier than expected.” Khaine commented, sticking his lower lip out in approval at the way Henri had handled everything.

“Pack a bag. Khaine and Sal will get the car and I will help you load up.” Henri pointed to my bedroom door.

“What about my bike? I’ll need some sort of transportation.” I protested. I could hitch a ride with whomever, but I wanted my bike.

Riding my bike was the only time that I had ever left the house, even if it was in the wee hours of the morning when I was possibly too inebriated to be doing so. I didn’t want to leave it behind.

“Well, from the smell of your breath, you shouldn’t be driving it right now. I guess I can follow behind with it and crash at the house tonight. I can ride back up here with Naomi in the morning for work.” Henri snapped his fingers at me for the keys.

I tossed them his way and trudged into my room to pack.

When I returned, no one was in the apartment and I took a moment to gather myself again. I had to try and return to normal, if that was even possible at this point. It felt like a piece of my soul had been torn out of my body and chucked down that pit along with Violet. But I had to get my head in the game and power through this.

Violet would want it that way.

(*)

“Home sweet home for the next…however long.” Khaine held his arms out wide as we walked into the swamp house.

“Yeah. Home sweet home.” I shrugged, dropping my bag on the floor.

“Welcome back, Adam!” Claire came down the stairs and threw her arms around me.

The house looked different. Not too different, but it looked like they had made an upgrade to the furniture and added a bunch of interesting artwork to the walls.

Naomi came traipsing in the room with her nose in a spellbook and half waved at me as she plopped down in a plush chair and kicked her feet up.

“So, sleeping space…” Khaine clasped his hands together and glanced down at Naomi.

“He can have my room if he wants.” Claire smiled at me.

“Why? Violet’s room is in the back and it’s empty.” Naomi piped up, not looking away from her book as she pointed at the back of the house.

Khaine let out a low growl, but I held my hand up to signal that her words didn’t bother me.

“I can take Vi’s old room. No problem.” I picked my bag back up and stiffly walked to the back of the house.

I pushed the door open with my foot and was met with ferocious barking and wet snarls.

“Whoa! Easy boy.” I put my hand out as Dingus skittered to the door with his hackles raised.

“He spends all his time in here and refuses to go home.” Khaine came up behind me as Dingus whined at my feet, sadly wagging his spiky tail.

“Go home?” I didn’t quite catch his meaning.

“Yeah, home. Wherever it is that they hang out before I summon them. Usually they come when I call and then I send them back, but Dingus refuses to go. I didn’t even know they could do that.” Khaine patted the hound’s beefy head.

“He misses Vi.” I crouched down and rubbed his jowls, “I miss her too, buddy.”

“I guess he’s your responsibility then, if you’ll have him. He pretty much takes care of himself, but I don’t think he belongs to me anymore. He’s Violet’s pup and he seems lost without her.” Khaine looked saddened for a moment.

I understood being lost without her.

“I’ll take care of him. Maybe a dog will cheer me up a bit.” I snapped my fingers and Dingus followed me into the room as Khaine disappeared down the hall.

Her room hadn’t changed a bit.

The same sheets were on the bed that were there when we had last been in here. I had flashbacks to her crawling into my lap when she was all hopped up on Sitri.

Her laptop was open on the desk and still plugged in, but it looked like someone had come in and turned it off. I checked her drawers to find them full of her clothing and noted the random pieces of jewelry and trinkets atop the chest. The whole room looked lived in even though no one had spent any real time in here besides Dingus in over ten months.

“Well, boy. I guess this is our room now.” I scratched behind his ears as he cried, laying his head in my lap.

That little gesture opened the floodgates and I let the tears flow.

I couldn’t remember the last time that I had really cried, but it felt good to let it all out. I was exhausted, mourning was exhausting, and I literally cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up, I would shoulder on and not look back, only forward.