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Caleb nodded and set about doing that while Hayley gathered the dirty socks and jeans and stuffed them into the hamper in the corner. She picked the whole thing up and headed off to the laundry room across the hall. She sorted his clothes and started a load. When she was finished, Chris was sleeping soundly with the light off and door partially closed and the guys were in the living room, talking quietly.
“I’ll stay with him,” she announced. “He shouldn’t be alone. I can do it.”
Tex frowned. “Are you sure? ‘Cause we can stay. It’s no problem. We’re-”
“I don’t-” Hayley interrupted, looking over her shoulder at the door. “I don’t think he’d want you to. To see him…like this. He wouldn’t like it. He’s not supposed to be like this. I mean that’s what he probably thinks. So…you should go. I’ll make sure he’s okay.”
They finally agreed and Tex squeezed her shoulder warmly. “That’s nice of you, Slick. And thanks for callin’ us, not leavin’ him there like that.” Hawk and Caleb nodded their thanks and she locked the door behind the men as they walked to their bikes. She set about picking up pieces of broken glass she found on the carpet while waiting for the wash cycle to finish. There wasn’t much to clean because Chris liked it that way, but she wiped down the kitchen counters anyway. It wasn’t until after she transferred the first load of laundry into the dryer and started the second, that the screaming started.
At first Hayley had been startled by it. More than startled. It had felt like she’d been doused with ice water, but she quickly sprang into action, heading not to his room, but to the guest bathroom next to the laundry room and snatched a washcloth off the towel bar. She dampened it and went to Chris’s room. Despite his agitated state, Hayley calmly climbed onto the bed and took hold of his wrist.
“Shhh,” she told him. “It’s alright. You’re home. You’re home now. And in your bed.”
“Oh, God,” Chris moaned. “The smell. I can’t take the smell. God, I hate the smell!”
Hayley looked around the darkened room, lit only by the hallway light. “What?” she asked him. “What smell? There’s nothing-”
“He’s burning!” Chris answered, panicked. “Fuck! Hawk! Get to him! Get him out! Jason’s burning!” he screamed.
Hayley swallowed the bile rising in her throat and pressed the cloth to the side of Chris’s face. “No,” she said firmly. “No, he’s not. That’s all done. He’s- he’s not hurting now. He’s in a better place.” Hayley didn’t know if that was precisely true, but it was certain, at least to her, that being dead was better than burning alive, and so there was some comfort in that. Chris calmed under the cool strokes of the cloth and she got him to roll onto his side again.
She laid the cloth on the back of his neck and calmly reassured him that he was at home, in bed, and that the worst of it was long over. He cried softly into his pillow. “I couldn’t save them,” he said out loud to no one at all.
Hayley laid a hand on his arm. “I know,” she whispered softly. “I know exactly how that feels.”
When he finally fell back asleep, she covered him with the bedsheet and left the door open just a crack.
***********************
Chris woke to a blinding headache and was pretty certain large balls of cotton had been shoved into his mouth. He stared at his ceiling, waiting for the wave of nausea to subside before trying to sit up. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he saw a glass of water sitting on the nightstand and a bottle of Excedrin next to it, cap off. He frowned at it. He didn’t remember taking any and if his throbbing head was any indication, he hadn’t.
He swept up the bottle, shook out a few pills and chased them with the water. Then he realized he was missing his pants. No sooner had he come to this realization than he came to a second, more perplexing realization, that there was a laundry basket next to the door filled with clothes. His jeans lay neatly folded on top. He slowly rose, despite the pain behind his eyes, and put on the jeans. When he opened the bedroom door, the first thing to hit him was the smell.
Coffee. It was definitely coffee brewing, and although his stomach roiled slightly at the smell, he also knew he really, really needed a cup. Or five. He set off down the hall to investigate and found Hayley in his kitchen. “Slick?” he managed to get out, but his voice was rough and gravelly.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Hey,” she said softly. “Sit down at the table. I’ll pour you some coffee.”
