❝In which two people call up a helpline in order to find someone just as broken as they are. ❞
"Does...does it bother you that my dad's in prison for murder?"
"Well, judging by the fact that I moved away from America to get away from the memory of a...
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Elliot stared down at his phone with a sort of sickening churning in his stomach. All the thoughts running round his head had finally sunk to the centre of his body, swimming in confused circles like blind fish adjusting to a new environment. His thoughts were in a new territory. Instead of being stuck in a noman's land of ignorance, they had entered the real battlefield. The battlefield where Elliot actually consideredhis worries and concerns instead of just waiting for his emotions to burst out on impulse.
He needed to see his dad, that much was clear. Without that he would have no chance of closure. He would forever be stuck hovering in between guilt and anger. At himself. He needed to see his dad, because, he needed to ask why. He needed to know what was going through his dad's mind the moment that he had pulled the trigger.
But he couldn't go alone. For some reason, he knew that going alone would result in disaster. As much as he liked to believe that he was capable of being a lone wolf, he relied on a pack just as much as anyone else. He had no doubt that he would crumble at the sight of his father and, quite frankly, he needed a shoulder to cry on. The tears had been holding themselves back for too long and seeing him would just push them over the edge. All the emotion he had been holding in would come tumbling out in agonizing cries. And he couldn't do that alone.
He needed someone to lie and say that he was going to be okay. He needed someone to believe that he was going to be okay, to have enough belief in him that they had the courage to lie to his face with comforting words. Because, without that false reassurance, Elliot would fall apart.
But who could he take with him?
Mum was just as fragile as he was. Using her as something to lean on would be like leaning on glass. Fragile. Likely to break. And incredibly sharp when it shattered.
Noah would refuse to come and, if by some miracle he agreed to the spontaneous excursion to the prison a few towns over, Elliot wasn't sure that he could refrain from punching his face in.
Jacob wasn't around. And ominously busy. And Elliot didn't want to talk to him either.
Shawn wouldn't get it.
Maddie would get it a little too much, suffocating him with understanding and sympathy that he didn't deserve. Or want.
So that left the one person that knew too little to know too well.
"Hey Isabella...uh...we haven't talked in a while."
"Yeah...I guess we haven't. I...I'm sorry. I...I've just been caught up with a lot of stuff lately and I didn't even think to call."
