Chapter Text
“Alright!” Mark’s eyes glimmered approvingly behind his glasses. “Does anyone else have something they’d like to get off their chest? Any good news? Any bad news?”
Robert glanced around the room and did his best to be discreet about it. He was never excellent at reading people, of course— had he been, he imagined, he wouldn’t be here to begin with— but, as far as he could tell, no one had anything left to say. A few people were doing the same thing. Their gazes were subtly encouraging, moving first to those beside them and then traveling elsewhere.
Oh. Looking to his right was probably a good idea. Robert hadn’t thought to do that. He was too busy examining the room in an anticlockwise fashion, starting at his left and then making his way around. (The first person he’d met eyes with, of course, had been Rebecca. She’d made a face at him. Robert could only withstand a giggling fit for so long. He’d pretended to clear his throat instead.
Mark had turned to him. “Did you have anything, Robert?”
He’d cleared his throat again, for real this time. “No. Sorry. I, uh, I have a cold.”
Robert had sniffled for good measure.)
He knew who was right next to him, opposite Rebecca. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look directly at her. The mere thought made him nervous, like he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Part of him, however irrational, feared she would be angry with him for perceiving her. He didn’t blame her. For as long as the two had been acquainted with one another through DRAAG, Robert had been little more than a nuisance to her. She was so cool, with her distinctly modern hairstyle and her messy nail polish and the way that, on the rare occasions she talked about herself, she seemed to know so much about music he’d never heard of. She was so cool, it intimidated him. He wanted to be her friend. He didn’t have a chance. He had interrupted her twice, both times when she’d been at her most vulnerable. He was the reason she hadn’t shared anything since. He’d been responsible for her death, a painful death, a death she didn’t deserve. The rest of DRAAG had thanked Robert for bringing them back. Something told him she wouldn’t forgive him so easily.
She probably hated him, Robert thought, lost deep in the recesses of his own head now, where nothing else was real. She had every right to. She was so interesting and sharp and clever and so goddamn cool, and he was old and weird and unsettling and—
A repetitive noise to his right distracted him.
Against his better judgment, he turned to look at her.
Carol was hunched over, her chin in her hands, her foot tapping aggressively on the linoleum as if it had a mind of its own. She reminded him— oh, God, she would sense that Robert was thinking that, and she would think it was mean, and he wasn’t trying to be mean— she reminded him a bit of a rabbit. Maybe a hare, actually. She was a little too tall to be what he considered rabbit-like. But she had the same wide, eternally-preoccupied eyes; the same subtle twitchiness whenever something came up that bothered her; the same relentless tap-tap-tapping of one foot, a distress signal for when words failed.
He wasn’t sure where he found the courage to do it— he’d given it less than a second of thought, and his heart was already pounding halfway up his throat— but Robert leaned over to her and whispered, “Hey. Carol.”
She flinched. Her eyes flitted briefly over to him, darkened with what looked like disdain, then went back to staring emptily ahead. “What?”
“You look stressed. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” she said sharply.
“Do you maybe want to speak up?”
“I would.” The tapping quickened. “But it’s really heavy, and everyone else is doing so well, and I don’t wanna ruin the mood, so I guess I’ll just keep my mouth shut.”
“You don’t have to,” Robert said gently. He thought he heard his voice trembling a little. “That’s what these sessions are for. I’m sure everyone would be more than happy to support you.”
“Yeah, but it’s stupid anyway, so whatever.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“It definitely is.”
“Do you want to share it?” Now Robert needed clarification. “Or do you not?”
“I do, but—“
“Do you want me to tell Mark for you?”
She looked at him fully now. The tapping stopped. Her jaw was slack, her eyes wide, her brows furrowed with shock.
Then she laughed incredulously. “You wouldn’t.”
“I’m fine with—“
“It’s okay if no one wants to talk right now,” Mark said politely. “I’m sure we’ve all had a long day. There’s always the next session. Remember that, everybody: there’s always the next day, the next week, the next month, the next year. It’s never too late to—“
Robert raised his hand. “Excuse me?”
“Yes, Robert?”
“Uh…”
A tight knot rose into his throat. Robert was suddenly aware— too aware— that he’d bitten off more than he could chew. Why was he even doing this? What was wrong with him? He hadn’t bothered to finish talking to Carol about it. He’d simply gone along with every stupid whim that had seized his stupid brain, ever desperate to be some kind of savior. The kind no one had asked for. Mark’s eyes were patient, as always, but Robert knew there was an expectation upon him now. An expectation to deliver. His stomach turned at the notion that all eyes were once again on him.
He could only imagine how Carol felt.
“Hi. Yeah. Sorry.” Robert feebly lowered his hand. “Um, I think Carol wanted to talk for a bit?”
Robert turned back to her, not sure who he was trying to reassure more.
“You don’t have to,” he reminded her, “if you’re not ready yet.”
Carol only blinked. She was still visibly dumbfounded until she straightened, crossed her legs, and looked around the room. She was no doubt examining it for traces of judgment. Robert knew because he did it all the time.
Then Carol laughed weakly. A little bitterly, Robert thought. “Well, I have good news and bad news, if that’s okay.”
“Sure!” Mark gave her an enthusiastic nod. The rest of the group murmured words of encouragement. “Let’s hear it!”
“Alright. Bad news is, I don’t really care what happens to me anymore.”
The room fell silent.
“How come?” Robert asked, in an effort to spare her the embarrassment.
Carol shrugged. “I dunno. I haven’t cared for a while, I guess. I’ve kind of wished something would happen, just so all this bullshit would stop. Not necessarily death. I don’t have to die. I just kinda want to be out of commission forever. Like a coma or something. Does that ever happen to you?”
Robert’s hand drifted to the cuff of his sweater sleeve, the movement spurred by memories he would rather not think about. “Yeah. A few times.”
“Just so we’re clear—“ Mark’s voice was softer now, laced with cautiousness “—you’re not thinking of doing anything to hurt yourself, are you?”
“Oh, no. I haven’t done that in forever.” Carol checked her nails dismissively. As if this was the sort of thing that could be dismissed. “I’m not gonna do anything. I just kinda wish it would take care of itself.”
“Carol,” Bob began, from across the room, “your life is so valuable. You contribute so much more than you know. You are kind, and intelligent, and if anything were to happen to you, God forbid, I’d really miss you. Last week, when you didn’t show up, I was worried sick.”
Rebecca raised her hand and turned to Mark for approval. “May I?”
Mark smiled at her. “Sure.”
“Okay. Um…” Rebecca hesitated. “Sorry. I’m not… I’m kinda rusty with the sentimental stuff. But you guys remember board game night, right? Raise your hand if you played Uno with Carol.”
Several people obliged.
“Great, thanks. She’s funny, right? I mean, really, honest-to-God, piss-yourself-laughing funny. She’s not like me, where I go out of my way to make people laugh, and they just stare at me, and I’m like, ‘Get it? Get it?’ Carol’s nothing like that. She’s funny because she doesn’t try too hard. I think we could all learn something from that.”
“And…” Robert fought past the panicked fluttering in his chest once he realized he’d spoken. “Sorry. I… I just wanted to say that, uh…”
His heart thrashed against his ribs. Robert took a deep breath.
“I know we don’t talk much,” he said, turning to Carol, “but you are so awesome, it’s intimidating. I’m honestly a little scared of you. But— but not because you’re scary, or anything. It’s just… well…”
Carol’s eyes were glistening. She made a noise somewhere halfway between a laugh and a sob. “It’s okay. I’m a little scary. You can say it.”
“No, no, it’s not like that at all! It’s just… you’re so… you. And a couple times, I’ve seen you with your head held high, and you exude this aura of badass. I’d miss that a lot, if we were to lose you.”
The rest of the group was talking at once now. Everyone chimed in with their own stories. The Christmas party. The Friendsgiving dinner, as Mark had called it. Some gathering Caitlyn had held at her place. Carol’s face was in her hands now. Her shoulders were beginning to shake. To her right, Trevante placed a hand on her back. As she wept, she made a little squeaking noise every so often, probably her breath hitching in her throat.
Mark was on his way over. “Are you okay?”
Carol looked up, her face red and tear-streaked. Her large, plaintive eyes reminded Robert of a painting he’d seen once, a painting of a young woman in armor. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”
The room lapsed into pensive silence again.
“We thought you knew,” Caitlyn piped up.
“Yeah,” Rebecca agreed. “If I were you, I’d think I was hot shit.”
Carol wiped her face on her sleeves and laughed softly again. “Well… thank you all. So much. Uh, aside from that, the good news is that I’m gonna get my first tattoo in five years this weekend, so…”
Karla’s eyes lit up. “What kind?”
“I’m not telling.” Carol smiled lopsidedly. Robert wasn’t sure he had ever seen her do so. “I want to surprise you guys.”
“I’m sure it’ll turn out great,” Karla said. “I can’t wait to see it!”
The group concurred, and Carol was back to hiding her face again.
After affirmations, Robert was halfway out the door when someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around to see Carol standing right behind him, a new book from Mark’s library in her arms. Something in her eyes was warm.
He looked away as soon as they met his.
“Hey,” she said. “Um… thanks.”
“Of course.” Robert was still holding the door open. “I… I know it wasn’t very cool of me to barge in and interrupt you the way I have before. I wanted to make it up to you.”
Carol scoffed and rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to do that. It’s my fault for being a bitch to y—“
“Whoa, whoa, hey. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re not… that.” Robert lowered his arm and allowed the door to close behind him.
“What? Me? Not a bitch?” Carol narrowed her eyes skeptically. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“You really think so?”
“Of course! You aren’t a bad person, Carol. You’re just… well, I don’t want to assume anything,” Robert added hastily. “But you’re doing what you think you need to do to get by. We all are.”
Carol only stared at him, her expression unreadable.
“How the hell are you intimidated by me?” she asked, looking him over. “You’re, like, twice my height.”
Robert could feel his face heating. “Don’t change the subject. You— you’ve got to be nicer to yourself, alright?”
“Uh-huh.” She spoke as though she wasn’t really listening. “Hey, do you have a phone?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Why do you think? Give me your number.”
Robert snorted, a little stunned by her audacity. He reached into his pocket. “Alright. Just a minute…”
He could feel her eyes on him as he looked for his own contact information.
Robert glanced briefly at Carol. “Is something the matter?”
She pointed at the colorful beaded charm dangling from his phone. “Is that a Kandi bracelet?”
“A what?”
Carol snickered. “Have you been a raver this whole time and I just didn’t know it?”
“Maybe,” Robert said, unsure what she meant by any of that. He held his phone up so she could see it. “Here.”
“You know you could’ve AirDropped it to me, right?”
“Hm?”
“You could’ve—“ She sighed and typed in his number. “Nevermind. Whatever. I’ll text you later tonight, okay?”
Robert nodded and watched her leave.
Carol 7:15 PM
Hey
Robert M. 7:16 PM
Good evening. :)
Carol 7:16 PM
My god
Do they have texting lessons for out-of-touch dinosaurs?
This is the most ominous shit anyone’s ever sent me
And I’ve been sent death threats
Robert M. 7:20 PM
I’m so sorry. That sounds horrible. I didn’t mean to upset you.
What’s so ominous about it? :(
Robert M. 7:25 PM
(Sorry for any delay, I’m doing laundry)
Carol 7:21 PM
No worries
I was kidding, btw
(Not about the death threats)
But you really could use some pointers
Also have fun with laundry
Carol 7:26
I’m drawing cover art rn
It’s what I do to destress
Carol 7:28 PM
I mean hell I’ve got nothing better to do
Robert M. 7:28 PM
Cover art?
For what, if I may ask?
Carol 7:29 PM
Music
Robert M. 7:29 PM
You have no idea how little that answers my question.
What kind of music? Whose?
Carol 7:30 PM
Look
I’m in a band okay
Robert M. 7:31 PM
Really?
Carol 7:33 PM
I know
I know alright
I know
Get all your jokes out
Go ahead
Robert M. 7:33 PM
I don’t have any jokes. That’s amazing.
What instrument do you play? Or do you sing?
Carol 7:35 PM
You ask too many questions
Robert M. 7:36 PM
Sorry. I get excited.
Carol 7:40 PM
You also apologize a lot
Looks like we both need to stop doing that, huh
Codependent things, amirite
Carol 7:45 PM
Hey
You know what
Robert M. 7:45 PM
?
Carol 7:46 PM
If you’re so curious about my work
Why don’t you come over?
Robert M. 7:48 PM
Actually?
Carol 7:50 PM
No, I’m just fucking with you
Yes, *actually*
Are you free this Saturday?
Robert M. 7:51 PM
I have plans on Saturday.
Carol 7:51 PM
Damn okay
Robert M. 7:52 PM
Does next weekend work?
Carol 7:53 PM
Sunday?
Robert M. 7:53 PM
Out of the question, sorry.
Carol 7:54 PM
Shit
Robert M. 7:56 PM
I’m guessing next weekend is off the table, too?
Carol 7:57 PM
We have a gig then
Robert M. 7:58 PM
I see.
Robert M. 8:00 PM
I’ll let you know if I can make it.