Pulling Down Heaven

Wow its not completely heartbreaking

The way Proctor got Hales address was probably illegal and definitely made him feel like a stalker. However, he'd weighed up his options and nothing else seemed feasible. Now he was going to the Thursday sessions (how his dad had changed it so quickly he had no idea) he could execute the plan almost immediately. So after a carefully timed fall and a scattering of Danforth's documents, the information was his. The next stage of his hastily pieced together plan was to wait until he heard his dad snoring on Friday night and then tiptoe out of the house. He was the only person in his train carriage, but he was still grateful Hale's town was only 1 stop away. He hated late night trains. Rain hammered the windows into slick, iridescent sheets, and as he stepped onto the platform he could feel icy fingers of rain go down his collar. He shivered and pulled his coat tighter around him, before heading out of the station.

Hale's evening had been almost identical to every evening since the news from Elizabeth on Monday. He had wrapped himself in a blanket and stared numbly at a book or his laptop in a failing attempt to ignore what had happened. So far he had managed to distract himself until he couldn't stay awake any longer, and had only cried a couple of times since Monday. He couldn't help blaming himself for what had happened- the weight of it dragged at his shoulders until he felt like he was physically sinking into the floor. He wondered if he'd upset Proctor- if he'd been too clingy or too annoying or too anxious. What had he done? What hadn't he seen this coming? He wished he could get Proctor out of his head- he was sure Proctor had already forgotten him now he had this girl instead.

When the first pebble hit his window, his brain responded with one word: burglars. If a pebble came first, what was next? A brick? A breeze block? Then he realised that a burglar wouldn't warn him with a pebble before they launched a breeze block through his second storey window. He sullenly and slowly wrapped his blanket around himself, a couple more pebbles hitting the window as he pulled himself up from the bed. Just as he was about to go downstairs he heard a faint voice calling from outside; "Hale?"

Hale froze. That was proctors voice. Should he still open the door? Why was Proctor here? He felt strange and shaky, but he could still hear the rain pounding down outside and knew it would be cruel to leave him out there.

"O- one second," he called, and his voice sounded unsteady even to him. Pulling the blanket tighter around him, Hale pushed open the door with a creak and padded down the stairs. The front door opened with a blast of cold air, and proctor was standing right there on his doorstep. Hale stepped back from the door to let Proctor step in out of the rain. His soaked clothes dropped onto the mat, and he smiled sheepishly at Hale.

"Hey," said Proctor.

"Hey," replied Hale, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

"On a scale from 'got caught in the rain' to 'rat that got stuck in a washing machine', how do I look?" Proctor laughed shutting the door behind him but trying, considerately albeit unsuccessfully, to restrict his movements so he wouldn't drip all over the floor.

"Definitely a rat in a washing machine," replied Hale with mock seriousness, "hold on- I'll get you a towel." He left Proctor standing awkwardly in the doorway as he went to grab a clean towel from the drawer in the bathroom. Still wrapped snugly in his blanket he handed Proctor the towel as Proctor took of his hat and attempted to dry his hair.

"Do you want to borrow some clothes?" He asked cautiously, his blanket feeling increasingly like his armour.

"If that's ok?" Proctor looked up from underneath his damp, tousled fringe.

"Of course," Hale began the truce back upstairs to his bedroom. He picked out the biggest clothes he owned, hoping they would fit Proctor. When he returned Proctor was rubbing the towel on his clothes to try and dry them. He showed Proctor to the bathroom and handed him an oversized t-shirt and some jogging bottoms.

While Proctor was getting changed Hale put the kettle on in the kitchen and called through to see if Proctor wanted anything. Soon afterwards he set about making a coffee for Proctor and a hot chocolate for him. He still felt weird and light-headed, having Proctor in his house felt more normal than he had thought it would. He suddenly realised he had never given Proctor his address, and decided to ask Proctor as soon as possible.

Not long after Proctor walked into the kitchen, still drying his hair with the towel. The t-shirt fit him ok, but the trousers didn't reach his ankles and were clearly quite tight. Hale couldn't help laughing as Proctor gratefully accepted his coffee.

"I know, I look fabulous," Proctor smiled in good humour.

"I honestly don't have any bigger trousers," apologised Hale as he leaned on the counter and picked up his hot chocolate.

"It's fine,"

"By the way- how did you get my address?" Proctor looked nervous.

"I- I may have looked at Danforth's papers,"

"Ok." For the first time that evening, an uncomfortable silence settled over the room- they both knew what the other one was thinking but neither of them wanted to breach the subject. Finally, Proctor spoke.

"So I came to explain- and, apologise."