forthedog | (no subject)

It hasn't made things any better. It's keeping him in bed and that's the best he thinks he can hope for right now.

At first he hadn't known what was going on; there had only been a sense of confusion and fear, people running through the halls, once or twice a faint scream. He hadn't know what was going on, and then all at once he'd come face to face with it, one of the doctors stopping and giving him a clipped explanation and then a flurry of panic and trying to get up and then some unknown time later... Chris and Lennox. And what they were carrying.

They'd put her in bed next to him. He had moved as much as he could. His leg is still painful, but moveable at least, if he's careful.

So it's happened before. So last time everyone was fine. So fucking what. This is Eostre and she's pregnant and he's fucking sick of the island doing this to him, making him feel this kind of fear.

He lies next to her and rests his head against her shoulder.

His hand hasn't left her belly in hours. He hasn't slept in he doesn't know how long. He counts his breaths and hers, and measures out the remaining time until he knows. One way or the other.

Threaded | Flat

At least people had started to notice that there was some kind of cycle to the Island's cruelty. So, when the fog pulled in Saturday morning and people started randomly falling unconscious, it was recognizable to some and therefore a little less terrifying.

Chris and Lennox both remembered immediately, remembered dragging Joe and Billy up to the clinic to be watched by Sookie before they both headed back to their own hut and clung to each other, trying desperately to stay awake, terrified that the Island would take them, too. Chris remembered it clearly, too clearly, almost. And while this time he knew what was happening and was relatively sure that things would return to normal again on Monday, there was still the lingering doubt in the back of his mind that said it wouldn't.

Winter had lasted a month, after all.

He and Lennox found Eostre asleep in the kitchen and, with some effort, managed to get her to the clinic and up into bed with Mike. They'd left shortly after, once they'd managed to assure Mike that she'd be okay, that the babies would be okay, that everything would be fine come Monday. Even if neither of them were positively sure they were telling the truth.

They'd gone back to the hut then, neither of them really voicing their biggest fears: that this time it would be different, this time people wouldn't wake up, this time the fog would take more people they loved. They'd held each other instead and said with their bodies what they couldn't say with words and when they both woke again, it was time for dinner.

But, Chris wasn't hungry and so he squeezed Lennox's hand before they got to the kitchen and nodded at the clinic. He knew Lennox would understand and gave a grateful smile before he headed off.

He walked slowly through the room, trying not to be unnerved by the bodies all around or the people diligently attending to them or the doctors buzzing around with the clipboards. Mike and Eostre were near the back and Chris was unsurprised to find that neither of them had moved much since he'd been there last.

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet as he walked up, reaching out immediately to rest his hand on Eostre's arm. She still felt warm, at least and he slid his hand up gently to the crook of her elbow, wondering if she could feel him at all, know that they were there with her.