Weightless

26) Moving Quickly

(1 day later) 2nd of July 2017

Cal calls Charlie - and then Charlie calls Connie. They make 'plans'. Ones which Ethan doesn't entirely know about. Whatever they are, he won't like them.

He wishes he'd have said yes to talking to Cal. Just Cal. He could've gotten away with just one person knowing everything. But it didn't work out that way.

"Stay still. Please, stay still."

Cal is obviously holding on by a thread. Ethan can't look at him, predicting that anything can send Cal into a spiral. He hasn't shouted yet. Nor cried.

"Does that hurt?"

Numbly, Ethan shakes his head. Blood is blossoming through the tissues. It stings; but he's grown to like the feeling of it. He doesn't say this out loud. Cal would never understand.

"Why would you do that? Why... I don't know why you'd do it, Ethan."

"I'm sorry," he says helplessly. And he really is. Not sorry he did it, but sorry Cal had to be a witness to his poor mental health.

"I don't want you to be sorry! I just want to know why."

Ethan opens his mouth to speak, but then clenches his jaw. He can't even meet Cal's eyes. Physically, he's not allowing himself to say anything. To even give a morsel of explanation for a single thing he's done. There's no way he can. He can't.

"Then I've got no choice left, Ethan."

That sentence doesn't make sense. In the morning, it does. When everything is moving too fast.

Ethan calls Mollie, due to his lack of knowing what to do next. Because she said she was there if she was needed. And he needs her now. Or he needs someone, anyway. And that someone can't be Cal because Cal's plans are... terrifying.

The bedroom door is locked with him inside of it. Blinds are drawn, the light is off and he's paced the carpet until his head span. Cal has tried to come in numerous times, offering water, food ("Just an apple, Ethan, please.") and comfort. None made Ethan open the door. Not even when Cal posted a piece of paper under the door frame with a frowny face on it.

Mollie's breathing is audible through the phone as he lays there presently. It's soft and feathery. "It's going to be alright. I promise you that it will be."

He's been laying there for what feels like decades now, phone pressed to his ear. From the other side of the line, he can hear crackling and her drumming her nails against the table. Quickly. Mainly, they sit in silence, the phone bill mounting up, because Ethan doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what he needs. Everything is riddled with confusion.

He just wants to be happy now.

He is not normal. He knows that. He should eat and sleep and work and smile and laugh but he can't, because of reasons he can't comprehend. Reasons that are tangled. Messy.

Ethan knows he's got a problem. Something that he can't control anymore. Just like his mum. It makes him want to sleep and not bother with the waking up part.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I'm not happy that you didn't let me know as soon as you found your brother," is the first sentence Connie says during start of the Serious Talk. She'd barely stopped to refuse his offer of coffee when she'd first arrived.

Charlie tilts his head to the side slightly. Giving Cal a disapproving look. "Me too."

"I know," Cal says guiltily. She'd been so helpful during times where Cal was virtually brotherless, and he'd only had to give one promise in return from that. One that he broke. "I'm sorry. I should've told you."