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“Nolan-”
Nolan begins to sob.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” Travis chokes out. He looks at Gabe, then at Nolan again. He shakes his head and walks around them, pressing his body against the opposite wall to give them the most space possible. “I’m so sorry.”
The sobs follow him all the way to his room.
He doesn’t feel much like going for a walk after that - an excuse to stalk Carter or not.
After spending the morning hiding out behind a small shed, looking out at the river that winds around the property, Benny - Jake, he's Jake now - finds Carter. He sits down in the grass beside him, leaning back on his hands. "Hey, kid."
Carter sighs. "Hey."
"In case you were worried, I have finally managed to pull Casey out of the pool. It was a close call, I think I saw fish scales growing, but I got there in time."
Carter smiles, his chest warming. "I bet he's already back in it now that you've left him."
"No, no. He's safely tucked in the living room. In fact, all of you are. All of the survivors, I mean. Except you."
"Is there a party I didn't get an invite for?"
"I'm your invite."
Carter raises a brow. "There's a party? For real?"
"Depends." Jake gives him a smile that's closer to a grimace. "Do you consider group therapy a party?"
"Oh, yuck. No thanks."
"See, here's the thing - Maison really wants you to give it a chance. And if you don't, then he's going to come talk to you, and between Travis saying you aren't ready to talk to him and Ace eavesdropping last night and hearing some pretty nasty brotherly comments thrown around in the kitchen, I'm assuming you'd really like it if you could avoid Maison today."
When Carter does nothing but release a long-suffering sigh, Jake adds, "There's food. And I believe alcohol."
Carter gives Jake his full attention. "How strong is that belief?"
Equipped with a glass of Moscato that tastes fucking phenomenal after so long without it and a plate of cheese and crackers and fruit, Carter sits beside Casey on a couch in the oversized living room of the safehouse. Survivors are scattered around the room, some on the floor, some lurking against the walls, some in the chairs or on the other couch. There are no operatives in sight. The only outsider is Dr. Singh, who is perched on the ledge in front of the fireplace with an ominously thick notebook and a pen.
"Hello everyone. I'm Dr. Singh and I will be here for as long as it takes to help all of you with your recovery." He smiles, slowly turning his head so everyone can see it.
Carter suppresses a gag. He must not do too well though because Casey nudges his side and mumbles, "Behave."
"Now, I know after you were all brought here and debriefed that a few of you have decided to take the action of leaving instead of staying at the safehouse. I want to reiterate that this is a supported option and none of you are ever required to be here, but once you leave, you cannot return, as keeping this location secret is top priority. Because of this, I wanted to do a small group talk once before anyone leaves. I also wanted to open up my afternoon for private sessions. I'm reserving that time for those of you that plan to leave. I'll stay up all night if needed. I'll also be conducting these group talks 3 times a week and will be here daily offering private sessions for those of you staying, starting tomorrow. Come to me whenever."
Carter swallows some more wine before he can get the chance to gag.
"Is there anyone that would maybe like to start?"
No one speaks. Some of the survivors eye each other suspiciously. Others just glare at their hands in their laps.
It shouldn't surprise Carter that the first person to speak is Nolan. He tries his best to keep from being annoyed, reminding himself repeatedly that the young man is deeply traumatized and has earned the right to feel his feelings - even if those feelings are being in love with Travis.
"Well, I don't know about anyone else, but my mind has no fucking idea what's going on."
Dr. Singh tilts his head sympathetically. "Is this about what happened between you and Travis this morning?"
Carter freezes.
