Genre: Angst. Drama. Romance. Friendship. Post-Movie.
Word Count: 711
Pairings/Characters: Curtis Everett/Edgar.
Synopsis: In which Curtis is surprised enough that he wakes up after the train crash, and more surprised to find he's not alone.
Comments: Alright, this is Chapter 2, there will be a few more, I think. Making up this afterlife is hard. Characters are not mine, please enjoy! Comments are awesome.
Chapter 1 |
The early morning sunlight that had lit the room when Curtis had first woken has drifted into early afternoon sunlight by the time Edgar finally convinces him to get out of bed, that nothing bad will happen if they leave the room. Nonetheless, Curtis is slow to climb out of the bed, half-expecting all of this to disappear with every second, and he keeps one hand on Edgar's shirt - like a child afraid to lose a parent in a crowd - as they leave the room. There's a short hallway, a set of stairs. It reminds him of the house he'd grown up in, a little. That home had never been so welcoming, so bright and peaceful as this one seems to be. The second to last stair creaks when he steps on it, though, just like he remembers, and the stained glass on the front door casts the same shadows that it did before the freeze. His bare feet pad quietly on the linoleum floor of a small kitchen, where Tanya is clearing the table, and Andrew is washing dishes, Andy at his side.
"You're all here, too?"
Tanya greets him with a smile, "Good to see you're finally up and about. We were starting to worry," she says, coming over to hug him. "There are plates for the two of you keeping warm in the oven, if you're hungry, which I imagine you are."
Edgar slips away from him, bee-lining to retrieve the duo of plates piled high with pancakes, bacon and eggs. Curtis watches him closely, making sure he doesn't disappear as he claims a seat at the table and dives in.
"Chew your food, boy," Tanya chides, "No one is going to take it from you, not anymore."
Curtis lets her usher him into another seat, and he obediently sits. The plate in front of him, however, is daunting, and he's got other things on his mind. "Tanya," Curtis starts, not sure how to tell her that while he may have done as he'd promised - saved Timmy - that it means he's not here with them. "A-about Timmy. He's-"
"Momma!" The little boy comes rushing into the kitchen from a door that leads outside, a brand new soccer ball in his arms. "Will you come and play with me?"
Tanya scoops her son up into her arms with a smile, "In a little while," she promises.
Timmy squirms out of his mother's arms and goes to lure Andy into a game while he waits.
"I thought-" Curtis starts, not sure if he should be crushed that Timmy didn't survive with Yona or relieved that they're together again.
There's a hand on his arm, a comforting weight, and she smiles and tells him, "It's okay."
"Is- Did anyone else..."
"Everyone's here," Tanya assures him, "Yona and her father are around somewhere." Yona didn't make it, either, then, he thinks. That really is everyone. "And Gilliam said he'd get Grey to bring him over later, if you wanted to see him."
"Gilliam's here?" He snaps, suddenly angry. He's still not sure if he believes the story that Wilford told him or not - damn it, is Wilford here, too? - but he's definitely going to get some answers from the old man. He moves to stand, to storm out of this house to wherever Gilliam is and find out the truth, because if Gilliam was working with Wilford then he's the reason that all of them are here. He's the reason Curtis did all of this in the first place, the reason he watched Edgar and Andrew and Tanya and everyone else die.
Edgar reaches out, grabs his arm to stop him from rushing off. "My Mom's here, too," he says, and suddenly Curtis isn't thinking about Gilliam at all. "I haven't seen her yet, but she's... will you come with me?"
Tanya gives him a look and he sinks back into his spot beside Edgar. "If you want me to," he promises.
"I do," Edgar answers, hand still curled around Curtis's wrist, like now he's the one who doesn't want to let go.
Curtis moves so that Edgar's got hold of his hand, instead, squeezes gently in reassurance, "Okay," he says, "Whenever you're ready, we'll go."