Work Text:
April
One year since Abby’s death
Chris knew something was off the moment he walked through the door. One, neither dog came to greet him as he walked in. Two, it was way too quiet.
In the two months that they’d been living together, he’d discovered that Kaitlyn did not handle quiet well at all. He blamed it on the fact that she was so used to alarms at work that she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if it was actually silent. She always had the TV, a podcast, or music going while she was home alone.
“Katie?” he called out, crossing through the kitchen to look out on the back porch.
She wasn’t there.
“Kate?” he called again, now jogging up the stairs. In a few long strides he was in the bedroom.
He walked in to discover complete darkness. The curtains were completely drawn, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Even when she dozed off during the day, she never closed off the curtains.
He flipped on the light in the hallway so he could have some light. Dodger and Maximus were curled up beside where Kaitlyn was buried under the covers. Maximus got up and moved closer to his owner, snarling, low and warning.
“Katie?” he called out softly, walking further into the room and sitting down next to where she lay on the bed.
“Go away,” came the muffled reply.
“Well, I kinda live here,” he responded, chuckling lightly and bringing a hand up to rest on her hip. “Try again.”
“For fuck’s sake, Chris!” she screeched, sitting up suddenly, her eyes red and puffy and tear stains running down her cheeks. “Leave me alone!”
“Whoa!” he shouted, hands raised in surrender as he jumped out of her reach. His eyebrows were raised in surprise, and he couldn’t help the pain that flickered in his eyes.
Kaitlyn clapped a hand over her mouth, shocked at her own vehemence. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked up at him, horrified at what she’d just done.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out through sobs, pulling her knees to her chest, beginning to rock back and forth as she cried. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, resting her forehead against her knees.
“Hey,” he said softly, sitting back down on the bed. He reached out and pulled her to his chest. One arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other wound around her shoulders, his hand gently stroking the back of her head. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”
“I… can’t… hurts…” she hiccuped through sobs, clinging to the front of his shirt.
“OK, OK,” he hushed, swaying gently, continuing to run his hand through her hair. He began to hum the tune to one of their favorite songs while she continued to cry. By the time he’d reached the melody of the second verse, her body-wracking sobs had turned to loud sniffles.
“You back with me?” he asked softly, leaning his cheek against the top of her head while they continued to sway together. He felt her nod against his chest. “You ready to talk about it?” he asked. She shook her head.
Chris kicked off his shoes, shooed the dogs out of the way, and scooted further into the bed to lay down, which was all a bit of a challenge as Kaitlyn still had his t-shirt balled up in her fists.
“Does this have anything to do with what today is?” he asked, the tips of his fingers running up and down along her spine. He knew he was right when he felt her breath stutter through her chest. She fisted the fabric of his shirt tighter in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck.
“I thought I was OK,” she whispered hoarsely, her breath coming out hot against his neck. “Then I looked at the calendar and it was like the wind was knocked out of me.”
Chris was silent as her tears started up again, the salty drops collecting in the dips of his clavicles. His fingers resumed tracing patterns along her spine as he reached over with his opposite hand and dug his fingers into the soft flesh above her hip, pulling her closer to him.
“I may have drunk the entire bottle of Pinot Grigio that I randomly found,” she admitted, turning fully onto her side so she faced him. One hand released the grip on his t-shirt and wove its way between his neck and the mattress. Her fingers tangled with the ends of his hair.
Chris barked out a laugh, and kissed the top of her head. “And did that help or make things worse?” he asked, his fingertips tracing patterns against the skin of her lower back.
She shrugged a shoulder. “Mostly, I don’t know, numb was the goal, it sort of helped,” she replied, propping her chin on his chest to look up at him. “Having your arms around me is proving more effective though.”
“Is that so?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in question. He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers. She hummed in contentment and snuggled closer to him.
“Gimme another one,” she said, stretching up and pressing her lips to his. Kaitlyn hitched her knee higher up his hip and pulled herself over so she straddled his waist. She pressed her lips harder to his, running her tongue along the seam of his lips. He opened up to her, his own tongue dancing with hers. His hands flexed where they gripped her hips. She broke the kiss, placing one last peck against his chin before scooting a bit lower and tucking her head under his chin.
“Feel better?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her and turning to rest his cheek on top of her head.
“Much,” she replied, laughing and rolling off of Chris as both dogs came over to lick away her tears. Chris laughed along with her and shooed the dogs back off the bed.
“Abby would want you to celebrate her today,” he reminded her gently, cupping her face with his hand and rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone. “She wouldn’t want you to be sad.”
“I know,” she whispered, taking the hand that was stroking her cheek into her own. “She brought you to me. If that’s not worth celebrating, well, then I’m going back to day drinking and crying uncontrollably.”
“I have an idea,” he said, rolling over and grabbing the remote off the nightstand. “Pick a Disney movie, I’ll put together something special for lunch.” He kissed her cheek loudly before jumping out of bed and tossing the remote at her.
“If you’re cooking,” she started, eyeing him warily, “I don’t know whether to be shocked or scared.”
“Oh, come on,” he whined, throwing his hands up in the air and rolling his eyes. “I haven’t set off the smoke detectors in a month.”
“That’s because I’ve been doing all the cooking,” she teased, giving him a wink. She turned on the TV and scooted backward so that she could rest against the headboard.
“That’s not true,” he argued, he raised a hand in her direction. “I made dinner that night you were stuck at the hospital late.”
“Babe, you put burgers on the grill,” she challenged, quirking an eyebrow at him. “There were no smoke detectors and everything was literally on fire.”
“Rude,” he commented before turning and walking out the bedroom.
“I love you!” she called out after him.
Chris grumbled good naturedly under his breath, but continued down the stairs. He made his way into the kitchen, the dogs hot on his heels. “Alright ya meatballs,” he said, picking up their food bowls. He doled out the food, and set the bowls back in front of the dogs.
After washing his hands, he pulled out the boxes from the cabinets, and set a couple pots of water on the stove to boil. Early in their relationship she’d told him about her grandmother who had made Lipton soup for her and her cousins whenever they came to visit. It wasn’t anything special, just a packet of Lipton noodle soup with a chicken bullion cube and elbow noodles. However, it was always such a source of comfort in those moments that even though her grandmother had passed away a few years ago, the feelings of comfort still resonated whenever Kaitlyn made it for herself.
When the water boiled, Chris dumped the packet of noodle soup and some elbow noodles into their respective pots before setting the timer. While the noodles cooked, he eyed the loaf of bread on the counter and made the decision to go all out with the comfort food. Grabbing the margarine and a block of sharp cheddar from the fridge, he spread the margarine over several slices of bread while the skillet heated.
“Ah, shit,” he muttered as a slice of cheese hit the floor. “Dodge, Max Max!” he called out, whistling for the dogs. Both came in and made short work of the dropped food. When it was clear there was no more to be had, they both retreated back in the direction of the bedroom.
He flipped the grilled cheese sandwiches before ladling the soup and noodles into a couple of bowls that he’d sat on a tray to make it easier to carry everything upstairs. He flipped off the gas on the burners and slid the sandwiches onto a plate.
He carefully lifted the tray and made his way upstairs. At the top of the stairs, he smirked to himself, looking up at the smoke detector. Balancing the tray on one arm, he reached up and hit the test button. The alarm shrilled causing Kaitlyn to shriek.
“You’re an asshole,” she told him as he walked into the room, unable to contain his laughter.
“I’m an asshole that cooked for you, though,” he countered, standing beside the bed and setting the tray over her lap.
Kaitlyn beamed up at him. “You made me Lipton soup,” she whispered, picking up a spoon and dipping it into the soup. “You remembered.”
He smiled down at her, combing his fingers through the hair that hung over her shoulder. “You seem surprised,” he said, climbing into the bed next to her.
“Not so much surprised that you remembered,” she told him, snuggling closer to his side. “More along the lines that you knew exactly what I needed when I didn’t.”
He smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and planting a kiss to the top of her head. “So what are we watching?” he asked, picking up one of the grilled cheese sandwiches and taking a bite.
“I thought we could pick together,” she said, picking up the remote again and scrolling through the movies available on Disney+.
“Oh! Fox and the Hound!” he exclaimed, pointing at the TV with the hand that still held his sandwich.
“Are you for real?” she asked, looking at him sternly. “I thought your plan was to make me feel better?”
“OK, point made,” he acquiesced, taking another bite from his sandwich. “Beauty and the Beast?”
“Hmmm… maybe,” she replied, remaining unconvinced and continuing to scroll. “Hercules?”
“Nah,” Chris dismissed, picking up his own bowl of Lipton soup. “What about Lilo & Stitch?” he offered.
“Perfect!” she agreed, hitting ‘OK’ on the remote to play the movie. “It’s little and broken, but still good.”
“Yeah, still good,” Chris finished the quote, kissing the top of her hair again before turning his attention back to the TV.