I Believe

11-29 The Email

Eleven days after.

Link wasn't home. He wouldn't answer his phone. Not a word about James Lincoln. I was on the verge of trying to do you-know-what to myself again.

Fourteen days after

Everything's the same. Except I've given up on trying to contact Link or talk to anyone in general. Everyone is worried sick. Theresa calls me at least once a day and sometimes drops by to talk to me for a while. What's annoying about is that she was trying to make it seem like it was all Link's fault. But she wasn't there. There was noone sober enough at the party to actually say that they were there. Even I can't really say I was there.

Twenty six days later

Christopher is more supportive than ever. I live in his house at the moment, I simply can't go home. I can't go anywhere, to be exact. Just can't.

•~***~Rhett's POV~***~•

I had never seen Christine in such a bad state before. I visited her almost every day, but it felt like visiting someone in a mental hospital. She wouldn't really speak to me and when she did, it was only a couple of words that most certainly wouldn't give me any positive thoughts.

"Would you like to go on a walk?"

"Aren't you worried about me killing myself again?"

"I can play something on the guitar to cheer you up."

"Nothing can. Perhaps a single word from Link. Oh, right, he's dead. Or at least that's what he wants me to think."

"Please talk to me."

"I don't want to."

"I'm worried."

"Why worry about a lifeless body? Go out and live your own life."

Her frightened stutter had turned into a cold, intimidating whisper. Just a single moment of eye contact with her made me hate the world for doing this to her.
I'd met up with Christopher quite a few times and we seriously considered taking Christine to a psychiatrist. Breakups are bad for everyone, but she looked peculiarly depressed about it.

Twenty seven days later.

Link hadn't shown up for work for a few weeks and the Mythical Beasts were starting to get curious. Prerecorded episodes could only buy us a few days, but the Mythical Beasts were starting to get suspicious. There were tons of rumors wandering around the internet but none of them were even close to the truth. You're asking, what was the truth?
Well, the truth was, we didn't know what was wrong ourselves.
The crew members were more concerned than ever. Shooting videos was impossible.
So we had to do the one thing we never wanted to.
Go on a break. For how long, noone knew.
As long as it would take for Link to return. But even if he'd returned, things wouldn't've been quite the same. Not without Christine being OK.

With GMM on break, there wasn't much to do at the office. I spent most of my time at home, playing with Shep and Locke. At least we got to spend a lot of quality time together.

I went to visit Chris&Chris at about five or so. For my surprise, the one to come open the door wasn't Christopher. It was Christine.
She looked a lot healthier already. I had only visited her two days ago, but the improvement was amazing. Her hair was put into an adorable Christine-like messy bun and she was wrapped in her usual fuzzy red blanket.

"Hey, it's so good to see you," Christine said quite cheerfully.

She was smiling, but it didn't touch her eyes even the slightest bit.
The last time I'd been there, she wouldn't even get closer to me than five feet, so I was quite surprised when Christine pulled me into a tight hug.
She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the kitchen with an adorable grin plastered to her face. She looked very proud about something.

"I see you're feeling better?"

"Yeah. I'm OK."

Her smile died down a bit.

"If you say so. Where's your brother?"

"He said he needed to go to the grocery store and I promised I wouldn't try anything I shouldn't."

It felt like talking to a toddler.

"Oh, okay." I frowned. "Are you ready to go outside later?"

She pulled her sleeves down with a guilty spark in her eyes and shook her head, eyes fixed on the floor.

"Why... Why are you hiding your arms, Christine?"

"Nothing."

"Show me."

"I don't want to."

"SHOW ME YOUR ARMS!" I thundered, losing control completely.

As soon as I realized what I had just done, her eyes filled up with tears. But she wiped them away immediately and let out a huge sigh. I could tell she was trying to hold it in.

"D-don't yell at-t me," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," I said apologetically and sat down on the sofa.

"It's fine, really."

She sat down on the armrest to my right.

"I b-burned mys-self when trying to cook-k earlier. I di-didn't want t-to show you 'cause I thought you wouldn't-t believe me. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be sorry. I shouldn't've yelled at you."

I expected a hug or at least a small smile, but she just went to another room calmly and closed the door with a quiet click. I knew that she wanted to be alone, so I left. No point in being too pressive. At least I felt needed at home.

Twenty nine days later.

The second I sat down in front of my laptop, my phone buzzed. I had gotten an email. Without opening it, or even checking who had sent it, I deleted it. Even if it had been Link, I wouldn't've cared about what he'd written. Even apologizing wouldn't've made the situation better. Maybe if he'd apologized to Christine, but that crap doesn't work on me. So I put my phone on silence and set it on the table, screen facing down.
After an hour of surfing online, I finally gave in and checked my mailbox again. Well, the Deleted Mails, to be exact. The mail was, indeed, from Link Heartbreaker Neal.

I'm home. In my real home. But don't tell Christine.

Link

I simply wrote back:

Idiot. Why shouldn't I tell Christine?

Rhett

PS. You're a jerk. Come back.

For hours I waited anxiously, my phone slippery from my sweaty hands.
But I didn't get a reply.