it echoes through

fifteen; stage five

"Ris, it's them," Harrison said towards the open door behind him, still content on simply leaning over the banister. Quickly, Clarissa joined his side, whispered something his way--and after an eye roll from him, and one in return from his soulmate, Clarissa ran down the stairs.

"What happened?" She asked eagerly, as she saw Tom's ripped shirt, the cloth wrapped around his stomach--the bandage on Caitlyn's shoulder, the bruises on everyone's faces. "What happened?"

"She played us," Harry said, his voice full of disappointment. You weren't sure if he was disappointed in her, or rather in himself--but he shook his head and scratched his nose wildly all the same.

"What does that mean?" Clarissa asked, taking a seat down on the empty loveseat by Sam--who seemed in his own little world.

And then you let yourself explain it all to her. Clarissa found it difficult looking your way at first, but after you uttered Finn's name, her face was glued to you with a gobsmacked expression--hanging onto your every word as if you were revealing the anticipated climax of a detective story. You did your best to recite all the details, but some things you didn't know--and the boys made sure to chime in with their insights. It was then Harry told you what really happened between him and Skyla, and how Caitlyn came back into his life--she couldn't meet anyone's eyes, either.

You weren't sure when, but somewhere between the retelling of Finn's villain monologue and his order to shoot Tom, Harrison had joined the living room--his hand around Clarissa as you spoke.

"Now what?" Clarissa asked slowly when the story was done. You shook your head slowly, carefully, as you looked over at Tom, and then at Sam, and the latter was quick to speak up.

"She said as long as we left Liverpool we're fine."

A moment passed as everyone took Sam's words to heart, and the implication of what that meant; that Skyla decided to let him go. Skyla Burns wasn't known for her weakness, nor a merciful heart, and everyone was left to fill in the gap--that she truly cared for Sam.

"And," Harrison hesitated, coughed lightly before he pointed a finger between Tom and yourself, "your situation?"

"How it should be," Tom answered firmly, placing his palm on your thigh securely.

"And our..." Harrison trailed off, unable to finish the rest of his sentence as he squeezed Clarissa's shoulder for a second. You shook your head, unable to say it either, and Harrison nodded once before his eyes sat on the edge of the coffee table.

"Right," Tom tried breaking the tension that slowly took over the room, running his palms over his knees as he looked at his best friend, "any best man duties for me to fill?"

"Are you joking?" Harrison asked, as plainly as he possibly could. Tom simply cocked his head to the side, confusion on his features, before Harrison laughed. "No, man. Of course not."

"But I saw on Rissa's instagram that you picked a venue and everything," Tom tried, unaware of the meaning behind Harrison's words. You could see Harrison's jaw clenching visibly--and although you couldn't feel it anymore, you recognised the white anger that registered in his eyes.

"I think Tom thought if you were still here when we came back that meant it was all forgotten," you offered. Harrison clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth--eyes rolling wildly.

"Well, is it?" Harry tried, nervous that once again his family would be taken away from him.

"Fuck, no," Harrison groaned. "We stayed until you got back, we didn't want the dogs to be all alone for too long," he explained, rubbing his palms together before saying, "but we're all packed up."