sanctuary

The girl in front of her is someone who would usually spark a prickliness in Belva, her features similar to her own, the other girl’s prettiness almost a threat. It’s silly, she knows that it is, and yet it’s been ingrained in her. Maybe it was a survival instinct, just another part of her being a good child who listened and was the best. The prettiest, the one who wouldn’t try to get down from the shelf her father had displayed her in. She blinks, pulling herself out of such thoughts, and shakes her head slightly at the stranger’s apology. 

“No, that’s okay. It’s…nice of you. I was just confused.” Blue eyes shift from the bag in the other girl’s hands to her pretty face, and she hesitantly speaks up. “I’m Belva, by the way. I don’t think we’ve met.” What a thing to say to a stranger who knows so many of your family secrets.

If it wasn’t for how strange the night already was she might have questioned for a moment how similar they appeared. Yet maybe it was that strangeness that made her even notice fully in the first place. But there were a lot of blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls in the world. It shouldn’t seem too unlikely that they both ended up in this strange world. One far more engrained in the madness than the other. And she tries to see reason with it in that way. “Do people not normally offer to pick up after parties around here?” Though if she knew anything at all it’s that she had never heard a thing about parties from Horatio. And she doubted that there had ever been one here. Though anything that occurred while she was in therapy was a bit of a mystery to her. “Belva, that’s a pretty name.” She smiles, though it’s brief. “I’m Paige...” a friend of Horatio’s trails off in her mind, lost to the abyss. Had he told them about her? Anything at all? And if he did wouldn’t it be strange if she didn’t mention anything? “It’s nice to meet you... Well... Officially meet you, I suppose.”

On her way back from the living room, Belva moves quietly through the house, slippers replacing the heels that had been left downstairs in a room she doesn’t want to think about. Usually, she’d be fast asleep by now, but every time she closes her eyes she’s met with images from the night. Images of bloody hands, of too many beds lined up so close together, the sad and scared expressions of the people she’s grown up with.

She turns the corner, hand flying to her chest at the figure. It’s a girl, one she recognizes from the night, but doesn’t really know. “Are you…cleaning?” Confusion laces her tone, and she stares at the bag in the girl’s hands. 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Paige stares back at the other blonde, a quiet, nervous laugh leaving her mouth. “Yeah, I don’t know how I’m going to sleep tonight so I thought I could make at least.. Some of this mess go away.” Her grip tightens on the bag, fingernails threatening to rip through the plastic. The nervous energy she can feel makes her heart beat faster, and she’s not sure if it’s just her or it’s the entire house that is radiating with it. “I don’t have to... I can always,” a shrug rolls off of her shoulders. “I can come back and help tomorrow if you want.”

in spite of chandler’s infatuation, it felt as though it’d been a while since harley had seen paige. she wasn’t quite sure why there’d always seemed to be a feel of unease… or maybe she was – you know, she’d chosen not to think about it all too much. nonetheless, it was interesting to have a reunion of sorts in… what had essentially turned into an agatha christie novel with a few notes from stephen king. 

“ no – no, you’re good. ” nodding to the trash bag, she asked, “ want some help ? ” it’d give her something to do other than stand against the kitchen island, exercising the infamous thousand-yard stare.

River had been tossing around on the couch for a while, she wasn’t sure how long as her phone had died a while ago and she couldn’t be bothered to find a charger for it. She would live without it. But what she couldn’t live with right now were the thoughts spiraling through her head. There was no way she could sleep. Standing up, she started back towards the kitchen only to see someone else there. Someone who appeared to be cleaning.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” River knew she should have been helping, she had pretty much promised it to Chandler. Her eyes fell to a bloodstain on the hardwood, sure that that was there thanks to Emilio. “Do you want help? I can’t sleep and I know some pretty good tricks to get blood out.”

“Well, you weren’t wrong,” he points out, somewhat skimming over everything else she said. “I’m a fuck up, I’m selfish, I do whatever I want and don’t think about anything,” he tells her honestly, each word the truth that everyone knows. Even today he is reminded by December’s siblings what a bad idea it was but in his defence, he couldn’t have expected all that happened. Nobody had ever warned him how BAD this families secrets were – maybe if they had he would of just had a party in a local bar and ended it with that. Maybe even at the Creek, “But I thought I was doing the right thing, for December at least. I thought maybe something would finally make him happy. But I’ve fucked that up too,” he sighs, “This house, all that shit we’ve seen,” he can’t believe it. It’s all too much, “How is he ever meant to be okay?”

She sighs softly, shaking her head. “At the end of the day, if you can admit your faults and that you maybe made a mistake you’re doing a lot better than most people.” Her thoughts are still swimming, contained in a tank that is far too small with all the panic that rattles around. But she pushes away the thoughts, the voices booming in her mind. There’s a moment of hesitation as she reaches for him, but she quickly drops her hand back to her side. “You’re not a fuck up, Chandler. You never have been.” His question bounces around in her head, “I don’t know. It’s.. a lot. This house is insane, and I feel like it’s only just starting to come unraveled. But everyone will make it through, we all make it through our demons in our own way.”

“December will, you will... You can protect him, I’m sure you will.”

“No worries,” he says, his normal spirit temporarily drained out from inside of him. The truth is tomorrow he will get up and behave like nothing happened, bounce off walls and make jokes and act like the worlds still covered in glitter but tonight, he just can’t. His high has worn off and he’s never had a comedown quite as trauamatic. 

“I’ll clean up tomorrow, you know,” he tells Paige, not really defending himself but stating a fact. “I’m not that much of a dick.”

Blue eyes stare at him, letting a shrug roll off of her shoulders. “I know you would. But what am I gonna do, go home by myself and have nightmares? Might as well make use of my nervous energy.” She leans to pick up another cup off the floor, dropping it into the bag before dropping it altogether. “I’m sorry... About the other day. You were.. Trying to do something nice. And just because I don’t have the guts to do anything like that doesn’t mean it doesn’t I should get on you about it.” Paige moved toward him slowly, stopping a few feet away. “You gonna be okay?”

             𝕿here was a clutter in horatio’s mind; a knocked over cabinet, thoughts and feelings spread out; promiscuously, abstruse and ruining the tightly clasped order he had always had in his head —– and perhaps even worse, tonight it was surrounding him as well. cheap red party cups distributed on expensive wooden furniture, a limitless audacity filling hallways which were supposed to remain empty as soon as the clock struck ten thirty and the rhythm of too loud music, though reliable in itself, messing up the beating of his own heart. he could feel it; the desperate hammering of it against his chest, uncontrolled and irregular, as every single fibre of him was begging to make it stop, yelling inside his head because it wasn’t right !! this was not how the dollhouse was supposed to be treated. it had been built a home, a sacred place, a safe haven for vidal’s children —– this was not what he would’ve wanted.

            horatio’s chest was heaving; rising and falling in too fast a pattern for him to feel even the relaxation of a sufficient amount of oxygen in his lungs. instead, there was the whirlwind of perhaps irrational but nonetheless real panic, and his hands were trembling, either with the terrifying loss of control or the exhausting attempt to keep a hold of it, as he lifted his arm, shaking fingers pushing back the sleeve to look at his watch. it had always given him comfort. the ticking of time in forever the same pattern, it helped. when reality started to feel awfully nebulous — not unlike a dream, a vision, a nightmare, it was the one thing which reminded him of the things which were real. one second lasts a second, one minute a minute, one hour an hour; no matter what… however, now even the silent ticking was loud inside his head and with it the voice of his father telling him to get rid of them. he was the warden, after all.

            he was noticing someone, suddenly, rather than seeing them as his gaze was still glued on his watch, the pad of his thumb – stuck as well – brushing in ever the same mechanic pattern across the face of it.    “ i need some air, “    he muttered under his empty breath, fingers curling a little tighter around his wrist because he didn’t want to say it, because he was not someone who needed help, because this was his home and he knew his way around in it —– under normal circumstances, at least.      “ can you get me out? “

she’s not entirely sure why she’s shown up. everything in her is telling her to turn around and leave. she doesn’t belong here, she’s not a gatekeeper at this house. but she has the feeling she could get stuck in here. there’s something about it that seems to draw you in and she’s hoping that it’s simply knowing that Horatio is in there that’s keeping her. all she can hope for is to lose the fear that is hanging precariously over her shoulder, ready to drop at any moment and eat her alive. the party was loud, but it was nothing new. she’d gone to enough functions in her life to be used to the chaos that came with it, her mind is swimming through it as she lost herself to her surroundings. there’s the thrum of the music that feels foreign as it shook at her ribcage and in her stomach. and it all seemed fine until his voice broke through the mess as she passed by. this is the chaos that life didn’t prepare her for, but there she is - ready to take it head on. it’s the look of panic that he wore that she recognized very well. having looked in the mirror more often than not and seen that very look written on her own features. the fear vanished. they had made a promise, an oath to one another and she is determined not to break it simply because there are a million things involved in this. “yeah, let’s go.” Paige held out a hand. “you wanna lead? or is there a certain place you wanna go?” the sooner she got him out of there the better, but she figured trying to give him any control at all was better than nothing. “you’re gonna be okay, Horatio. I promise.”

“If he’s tangled then I’m tangled. My sister’s bloody tangled, the two most important people in my life have some toxic relationship with a ton of bricks and I’m not going to step back,” he reeled off. It was all true, of course. He only lied when he was trying to get out of something but he still saw no problem with talking to the press. They wanted a story and as far as he was concerned he had given them the best version of events – not the version where December was the drug addict outcast that was probably originally suspected of killing Vidal. He wouldn’t let that be the new narrative. 

“Yeah, whatever, I’m off,” he waved, turning away. 

Maybe he would take her advice and go and find December.

Cassia was jittery. 

They were used to it, really with everything that was going on it was almost like their default state. All of their feelings were conflicting.  They were happy that Emilio hadn’t killed anyone (though Cassia knew that their sister really was capable of it) and they were happy that December was alive. But they still didn’t know who had killed Dad, or who had been messing around with the dolls, or why Dad had hid that he was July’s biological father - or really why he never said why he had any actual biological children. And it still just seemed like it was only a matter of time before everything started crashing down. So as usual, the bad in the world outweighed the good. And with the killer on the loose, Cassia still couldn’t help but think that something was going to happen to them.  

They had been attempting to calm themself down with a cup of tea in the kitchen, after all they were supposed to be happy….why was it always so hard to be happy? Taking a drink of their tea they heard someone behind them in the kitchen and jumped, dropping the mug which shattered into a million pieces on the floor. “Oh no…” Cassia said as they turned around and looked at whoever had walked in, “Um…hi.  Sorry.”

Constantin would admit that it indeed was weird for someone to stand behind a tree, looking at the imposing figure of a house in the distance. He’d go as far as to admit that it was even stranger to do it so late in the night, when there seemed to be no people around. Except, well, that had been exactly the reason why he stood behind a tree so late at night. The lack of people around the street allowed him the anonymity he wished for, knowing that being caught would mean answering some questions.  Graciela was probably inside the house surrounded by memories she could not escape, but she wasn’t the reason he was here. Did he want to make sure she was okay? Sure. The mystery behind Vidal was truly why he was standing there, risking being caught by anybody that could come upon him. “I’ll figure you out,” he whispered surely. After all he had been trying to figure Vidal out for months, always coming back with nothing. The sound of leaves cracking almost made him turn around, thinking it was a cat or something. 

“You don’t need to be a bitch,” that was honesty. He narrowed his eyes at her almost in disbelief. It was true that he was unreasonable, ridiculous and basically completely stupid but he valued his friendships and was loyal to December throughout his apparent death. It wasn’t like he thought that being famous would do anything for him. He was simply taking the opportunity to share his thoughts with the world – something he would never be able to stop himself from doing anyway, “You think I’m better than that? Stop talking shit about what I’m doing when you don’t know anything about it.”

Paige may have been beautiful and wonderful in his eyes but he still didn’t appreciate the way she spoke to him, like he was a piece of crap for something he hadn’t even done. “Yeah, you keep saying that,” he told her, his eyebrows raised, forehead wrinkled, “But you seem really bothered about what I’m doing for someone who doesn’t care about me at all.”

she looked as though she’d been slapped across the face, almost mirroring his disbelief. “I didn’t-” mean it like that? but she had, hadn’t she? that was how it looked from where she was standing and of course she had to open her mouth and say it. it took her a moment, trying to swallow the words that didn’t seem helpful. “sorry. you’re right, I don’t know anything about it. it just all looks so messed up, and anyone ending up tangled up in it seems like bad news.” and she meant it, if she could have avoided the house she would have. she still wanted to. her gaze moved to the crowd of press. “but those guys are just looking for the next big thing, they’ll take your words and do whatever they want with them just to get the headline. do you really want that?“ Paige shook her head, “I do care about you. I just-” she finally turned back to him, allowing herself to finally really take a good look at him. to let things in her head slow down and really see him, not the fear that clouded her vision. and she saw all the parts of him that she had started to love, once upon a time. there were days where she had to wonder - if she didn’t have fragile plastered across her. would they have worked? “it’s not my place to tell you what to do. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

To be honest he was more distracted by her calling him honey. Yes, he should have probably known it was just a ploy but he couldn’t help but get excited when she touched his hand. He was like a school boy at all times, just the idea that someone wanted to touch him had him bouncing off the walls. Paige was someone he would probably drool over forever too so that was a bonus.

He was halfway down the hill, a grin plastered across his face before she asked him again. He looked back at her totally unfazed, “Talking to the press about everything that’s happened,” he told Paige as if he had no idea he’d done a damn thing wrong. He stared at her beautiful blue eyes with great content before his expression faltered, “You know it’s wrong to use your sexiness to lure me away, that was a dirty trick you pulled. Touching me, talking to me like that. You’re going to give me the wrong idea and break my little heart.”

there’s an ache in her eyes from just how far they roll into the back of her head as she tried to process what he’d just said to her. “december vanishes, is presumed to be dead and instead of finding him or talking to him you replace your best buddy with the press?” there is uncertainty creeping up and the longer he spoke the more flustered she felt. “why, chandler? I know you’re better than that.” at least she hoped so. and then she yanked her hand away. “I had to get your attention somehow, and marching up there looking like a crazy person is not how I want people to see me.” paige sighed, staring at him for a moment. “there is no wrong idea to be had, there’s nothing between us... not anymore.” a frown formed on her face and she looked away. this was not the conversation she had come here to have.

chandler wasn’t one to waste a moment. yes, his best friend had seemingly risen from the dead. yes, it was a little confusing. and scary. for instance – was he like a zombie now or something? chandler was sure that if that was the case then he could make some compromises like maybe allowing one arm or leg to be chewed. if he drank blood that would be okay but the main body parts would have to stay attach. he definitely couldn’t compromise on that at all. he had ran up that hill and through the crowd of reporters and somehow… whether it was his original intention ended up right at the front.

“yeah,” he clutched his heart, “i’m his best mate. i never gave up on him, i knew he was live the whole time. i could just feel it,” he spewed words staring directly at his audience having not even seen december yet. “you know how i knew that?” he asked seriously, leaning into the camera that was closest, “‘cause legends never die. and december athanas? that man is a true legend.”

she had attempted, to the best of her ability, to stay away from the house. and yet, here she stood. arms folded across her chest as she took a breather, eyes scanning over the house - and the large crowd gathered. blinking a few times, she was sure she must be imagining it. yet the further she walked the less mirage-like this crowd was. perhaps her luck had truly run out in that very moment. and was that... chandler johnson? standing in front of everyone? truly, her luck had run out. pushing her way to the front edge of the crowd she stared at him, an eyebrow raised for a moment. if anything, horatio was going to have a fit over this and she needed to stop this wrecking ball in it’s tracks. “chandler, honey?” she approached slowly, grabbing for his hand with a smile. “did you forget about our plans? please excuse us,” and then she yanked him off to the side, heading back down the hill with haste. “what the hell are you doing?”

Change? I’d kill to be fearless.