geeky_agent (
geeky_agent) wrote2007-05-16 10:57 pm
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OOM: Will you be in our arms tonight?
July 16, 2012
1:52 AM
For the first time in her life, Chris was grateful for infomercials.
All the network channels, all the news channels were reporting on the nuke. The channels that weren't had updates scrolling at the bottom of the screen and the only exceptions were the kid channels and a few of the MTV channels. She tried watching MTV, they had changed their regular rotation for a carefully-selected roster of videos with songs that were "somber" enough to reflect the mood of the country. Some were the kind of cheesy pap that Chris had expected and could ignore but some weren't and halfway through the third (or fifth) video she changed the channel.
The only thing she wanted right now was to not think about anything. When they arrived at Michelle's house, it was after 10PM and she went straight upstairs to the guest room. When she wasn't crying, when she didn't have that nauseating feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she was just tired.
But she couldn't sleep, not when the same questions kept playing in her mind. Where is Caiti? Is she still alive? How will I tell dad? Oh, God, I don't want to tell him. I have to tell Ryan too. Would she be in Milliways when I go back? Is she at a hospital? Is she hurt? Is she dying? Is she in pain? Please, just let it have been quick, if she has to be dead, let it have been quick.
Jack and Michelle had tried. They tried to get her to eat but she couldn't, she'd already been sick when she was at CTU. They tried to talk to her or comfort her but she had asked both to just leave her alone for a bit. They tried calling the hospitals but a million other people all over the country were trying the same thing tonight.
Pressing the mute button, she looked down at the phone she had in her hand. She'd come downstairs with the intention of calling her brother. That was an hour and a half ego and she still hadn't dialed the numbers, still hoping that if she didn't call it wouldn't be real and breaking down in hysterical sobs everytime she tried.
This time she made it, dialling the numbers on his cell phone. After three rings, she was ready to give up but then he answered.
1:52 AM
For the first time in her life, Chris was grateful for infomercials.
All the network channels, all the news channels were reporting on the nuke. The channels that weren't had updates scrolling at the bottom of the screen and the only exceptions were the kid channels and a few of the MTV channels. She tried watching MTV, they had changed their regular rotation for a carefully-selected roster of videos with songs that were "somber" enough to reflect the mood of the country. Some were the kind of cheesy pap that Chris had expected and could ignore but some weren't and halfway through the third (or fifth) video she changed the channel.

The only thing she wanted right now was to not think about anything. When they arrived at Michelle's house, it was after 10PM and she went straight upstairs to the guest room. When she wasn't crying, when she didn't have that nauseating feeling of anxiety in the pit of her stomach, she was just tired.
But she couldn't sleep, not when the same questions kept playing in her mind. Where is Caiti? Is she still alive? How will I tell dad? Oh, God, I don't want to tell him. I have to tell Ryan too. Would she be in Milliways when I go back? Is she at a hospital? Is she hurt? Is she dying? Is she in pain? Please, just let it have been quick, if she has to be dead, let it have been quick.
Jack and Michelle had tried. They tried to get her to eat but she couldn't, she'd already been sick when she was at CTU. They tried to talk to her or comfort her but she had asked both to just leave her alone for a bit. They tried calling the hospitals but a million other people all over the country were trying the same thing tonight.
Pressing the mute button, she looked down at the phone she had in her hand. She'd come downstairs with the intention of calling her brother. That was an hour and a half ego and she still hadn't dialed the numbers, still hoping that if she didn't call it wouldn't be real and breaking down in hysterical sobs everytime she tried.
This time she made it, dialling the numbers on his cell phone. After three rings, she was ready to give up but then he answered.
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She could go upstairs but Chris knew she wasn't going to sleep, she tried that earlier. Even in her dreams she worried about her sister and the first thought she had when she woke was Caiti's gone. Besides, Chris didn't want to wake up Jack.
Instead she curls up on the couch, pulling the throw over herself and watching the muted images on the television.
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He only just knows Caiti; just the little from that one meeting in Morocco, from the few chances they'd had to talk during her stay at their place, and what she'd heard about her from Chris and Ryan. But he knows enough to know that he liked her, that he would have liked to get to know her better, and to be sorry to see someone that young, with that much life, gone. And if that wasn't enough, he knows the father that loves her so much; he loves her sister, and it hurts to see her grieving.
And over it all, the knowledge that they'd failed in the one task they'd been trusted with. That thirteen thousand people were dead, more dying, because they had failed. The number's so large it's almost too big to comprehend, until he thinks of specific people, their neighbours. Even then, it's hard to imagine they're gone, all of them, wiped out in one fell swoop. But then he'd seen the mushroom cloud with his own eyes; been surrounded by the news of death and devastation all day. As hard as it is to comprehend, as much as it seems like a nightmare he wants to wake up from, it's happened. It's actually happened.
He's not going to get to sleep anytime soon; he's not sure he wants to, not after everything that's happened. Besides, Chris still hasn't come to bed; she'd wanted some time alone, but she needs to at least try to get some sleep. Though God knows if he can't, he doesn't know how he can hope that she will.
Quietly, he walks out of Michelle's guest room and downstairs, trying not to wake her. Just a quick check to see how Chris is doing, then he'll head back upstairs; he's not going to stay if she wants to be alone, but he can't help but worry about her.
The television's on, the sound low, and he can't see her head over the top of the couch. Maybe she's managed to nod off from sheer exhaustion. Walking over to one end of the couch, down by her feet, he whispers, "Chris?", hoping that if she's asleep the sound won't wake her.
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When he calls her name, she turns over, to look at him. "Hey. I called Ryan."
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She just never believed any of it.
"Do you really think she's alive? Or are you just saying that?"
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"I'm praying that she's alive, and she just hasn't been able to contact us. But I know, realistically..." he pauses a moment, swallowing, "I know that there's next to no chance that she is. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
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Chris nods, the lump in her throat making it hard to talk, to breathe. "Yeah," she replies in a strained voice. "That's what I think too."
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Not that she didn't want to. Sinking into oblivion, not to think about anything, was such a tempting thought.
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Ryan thought their sister might be alive and Chris wanted that so much, she could almost imagine it. But that's all it was, wishful thinking.
Right now, she'd give up anything to make it real.