4 5
by TheHangedMan
VIII. Every Lie
[[ chreon, aeon/past!chrisker, rated m, 8/25, 10k ]]
When Ada spoke, there was no hint of regret nor animosity. Her voice was even, clinical. Even if the words themselves were lies, truth rang out in the manner in which Ada spoke them. She didn’t begrudge her situation or her lot in life. “Okay.” Claire’s response fell flat, mind too busy trying to decode the unsettling feeling Ada’s words always left her with. Ada’s eyes focused on Claire, studying her like a hawk would a rodent.
“When’s the last time you slept?”
Chris jerked his head up, awoken from his daze. His eyes were bloodshot as they regarded Claire. “I’m fine.”
“Like hell you are.” She crossed her arms. “Walk with me.”
There it was, the sideways glance backwards— the way Chris’ shoulders sagged when he looked at Leon.
“He’ll be fine for ten minutes. Annette’s watching him.”
It took more convincing, but finally Chris was on his feet trailing after Claire as she stepped out of the room. Ada remained in the waiting room, giving them the smallest of looks as they passed her by, but she said nothing even as they left her behind. Claire wanted to be out of earshot of everyone, but her especially.
“What’s going on with you?” Claire’s footsteps came to a halt just outside of the facility, thirty paces away from the monorail that had brought them there. It was reminiscent of the last time they’d talked, just the two of them. The situation had changed since then.
A cigarette was back in Chris’ hand, his fingers searching for a lighter Claire already knew he didn’t have. When he came up short, the cigarette was returned to his pants pocket. He was tired. “Nothing.”
“You’re not accomplishing anything by losing sleep over this. I can watch him if you’re worried about Annette or Ada—“ Claire felt her volume rising steadily, cut short only by the wave of Chris’ hand.
“I’m not worried about them doing anything.” His eyelids hung heavy and his five o’clock shadow was coming in dark on his dirt splattered face.
“Then what?”
“I’m afraid he’s going to take a turn for the worse when I’m not there.” He wouldn’t look at her.
Claire felt her heart drop into her stomach. This was familiar. The days of lost sleep, the painfully familiar thrum of machines. Chris’ tired, quiet grieving.
“He’s not Dad.” It felt like a knife to say as much out loud.
“I— I know. He’s going to get better.” Chris’ hand dragged over his face as if trying to wipe away his expression. He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply like he was blowing out smoke.
The emotions passed over Chris’ face like rippling waves. There one moment, gone the next, replaced by something fresh but equally as damning. Here he was, her big stubborn older brother, trying and failing to keep everything to himself.
“You like him.”
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