The Rest is Silence|(Chase) FINISHED

[chase]

Adjusting? Chase frowned to himself a bit. He had certainly made the transition from complete despondency and helplessness to numbness, though he certainly had his moments- more like hours, really- of being so emotionally exhausted that he still found himself crying over Lenore's passing. He felt he would never stop crying sometimes, that even in old age, should he ever reach it, he would find himself shedding tears at night over the loss. Lenore had made more than an impression on him; she had imprinted herself into his mind, his soul, and her death had ripped away that part of him, leaving him almost hollow.

No, Chase felt that to have fully adjusted, he would have to reach that final stage of grief- acceptance. Numbness he could handle, and even crying was better than accepting the fact that his first and only love was gone forever. He would never be able to absorb that; he would not allow himself to. Though he was fully aware of the truth in that fact, and his inability to change it, he also thought, foolishly and without merit, that by failing to acknowledge the existence of that truth, it would not exist. God, how much of a child was he? She had always had that odd ability, to make him feel unbelievably juvenile, like a teenager in the midst of his first crush, and even in death that ability was working wonders.

There was also the lack of closure in Chase's case, and he somehow sensed the same in Harry's own loss, though he knew nothing more than that the man's father had died and it had affected Harry deeply. There were still no leads in Lenore's case; the police could not even identify the type of object that had caused her death, much less the person who had caused it. Maybe that was contributing to Chase's refusal to move on. There had to be some hope there, though he consciously knew there was none.

Chase could see a hint of sobriety growing in Harry's demeanor. That was going to be a pretty severe shock, to regain full awareness of his world in the middle of a cemetery and a discussion about the deaths of loved ones. There was no way he was going to utter his true thoughts on the notion of "adjusting" then. Harry was in enough pain already. Pointing out how much farther he had to go would have been nothing short of cruel.

"Um, it's been a few months, I think," Chase said vaguely. "Everyone's different. There's nothing wrong with taking your time with it." He tried to smile, but it came out sort of lopsided. "And, uh, don't worry about having pushed me. It's okay, I'm used to it, I ride the subway daily." The last comment was a halfhearted attempt at a little humor, though perhaps it was misplaced. A small joke usually helped to lighten the mood, to help others feel better, which was what Chase was going for at the moment.

[hamlet]

Harry returned Chase's grin with a weak one of his own. The humor was welcomed, even if it did nothing to help his current state. The nauseousness started to linger and he was just extremely tired at this point. The cemetery, lines and lines of grave sites, seemed to suffocate him. Harry thought he'd be used to the feeling by now, the feeling of grief, but it never got better. It probably never will, and peace of mind was simply unreachable. And here, this stranger, tried hard to be nice to him in this drunken state, telling Harry the words he, no doubt, thought he wanted to hear. And he did. He wanted to hear that it was completely unforgivable that a man like his father should be forgotten in a matter of a few days, weeks...

Yes, that's what he wanted to hear. And even though Chase didn't say that specifically, Harry's foggy mind pretended those words were uttered, giving him some momentary satisfaction, even if it was false.

Harry swallowed hard and looked up the darkening sky. "You're a good man," he said with some amount of bemusement. He looked back at Chase and loss his balance just a bit but caught himself a bit more gracefully with a small step backward. He laughed a bit at himself. But the laugh didn't make his stomach feel any better and his smile faded quickly. He really just wanted to pass out more than anything else. He wished he drank enough to do just that involuntarily but unfortunately, he didn't.

He gazed at Chase quizzically, tilting his head a bit. "Hey, are you into theater at all?" He reached into his pants pocket and searched for a moment. "I could probably get you into a few shows for free if you want. I don't know. I thought I'd offer..." Doing something good for a good man? Sounds about right. "I guess to say thanks for not calling the cops on me for harassment or something crazy like that." He took out a business card and looked at it closely for a second, squinting a bit, making sure it was his business card before passing it to Chase. It had his name, office address and number "Not like that would crazy at all, since I'm the one being a bit crazy." An image of his dead father staring at him reappeared in his mind and he swallowed hard again. "--am crazy. I'm probably the one who's crazy, I mean." He shook his his head.

"Nevermind. I'm not making sense...again. Go figure. Anyway, just call and I can get you into whatever show you want. I don't know if you're into that kind of thing. "

[chase]

Whether Chase's words, including the joke, had made any difference to Harry, Chase could not really be sure. The man was still well past tipsy and his grief did not seem to have abated. Chase wanted to believe that he had been able to reassure Harry somehow, even if Harry would only be able to really process it later, once the drinks had worn off. Chase had not had anyone to give him that sort of comfort- although many friends and family members had grieved over Lenore's death, few of them were still having trouble accepting it, and only Chase seemed to have felt it as deeply as he had.

He blinked. That was not entirely true. He had had someone to talk to when the pain had just befallen him, though theirs had been only a brief and accidental sort of chat. Her name was Vivian, and he had met her in this same cemetery, though that encounter had happened during the day, not too far from where he and Harry were standing. Though they had not talked about Lenore specifically- much- having someone to commiserate with had been helpful.

"You're a good man," Harry said in response to it all. It was an odd comment, but anyway, how did you respond to things on the level they had been talking at? Death and spirituality were difficult enough to handle under everyday circumstances. With both of them devastated by loss and one of them pretty heavily inebriated, the discussion had been more than a bit awkward.

Harry then offered him theater tickets, which was sort of random, but Chase could guess where he was coming from. It seemed Harry felt the need to thank him for something in a material way. Or maybe he was just trying to find a relatively normal way to take his leave. Either way, it was nice of him to offer, though Chase had to wonder if Harry would even remember him after this. If not, that would be a heck of a weird phone call.

"Thanks. I actually do like theater." Lenore had been an actress, so Chase had gotten well acquainted with a variety of shows. He had not seen any shows since her death, though. Maybe that would be a good way of jumpstarting the healing process. Chase glanced at the card, noting the details that were on it, before taking out his wallet and tucking the card into it. Chase did not have any business cards of his own, though he knew they would be useful. He had been meaning to have some made for the past few years.

"For the record, you're not crazy. Like I said, everyone handles things differently. Anyone who belittles you for feeling what you feel is wrong for doing so." He spoke matter-of-factly, though he was not sure why he was making this point. Probably because of all the strange looks he had been getting from others for harping on Lenore's death for so long.

Pushing the wallet back into his pocket, Chase almost dropped the flowers he had forgotten he was holding. He still needed to drop them off at Lenore's tombstone. She probably would have found the whole situation pretty funny. He wondered for a moment if maybe she had been watching them this whole time.

[hamlet]

"Thanks. I actually do like theater."

Harry smiled weakly and nodded. "Good, good. That's good." At least he did something for the guy instead of rant in his face like an absolute idiot. Its something his father would have done anyway. Hamlet was a real class act. If that really was him that he saw earlier and not a figment of Harry's imagination, Harry felt a lot better now that he did something generous for the guy. Not exactly too much better, but certainly a little. He still felt uneasiness at the pit of his stomach, not just from the lingering nausea, but from the thought that his father was watching him. Unrested. It made grieving that much worse.

"For the record, you're not crazy. Like I said, everyone handles things differently. Anyone who belittles you for feeling what you feel is wrong for doing so."

Immediately, Harry's uncle came to mind. Both his uncle and his mother. They thought he was crazy for being so melancholic. Harry thought they were crazy not to be. It was a vicious cycle. Plus, Harry was absolutely convinced that his uncle had something to do with Hamlet's death. Of course, not due to anything substantial, which made things even worse. Sometimes a man can't just go with his gut. And it killed him. It was more likely than not the reason he found himself at the bottom of a bottle every time. What would Hamlet think of him now....and possibly even worse, Ophelia?

Harry sighed heavily. If this man only knew what goes on in his household and at Hamlet Enterprises. If he only knew. "Thanks," he finally uttered. "I, uh...really appreciated it." Harry looked towards Chase's flowers and realized he'd pretty much kept this guy from visiting his deceased ex girlfriend. "I'm...going to go now," he said, still staring at them. The flowers held a bitter sweet image in his head. Thoughts of Ophelia and thoughts of his father's grave site. "Sorry for...holding you up." God, he was feeling really sick all of a sudden.

Swallowing, he looked up at Chase and smiled weakly again. "Maybe... maybe one day the grief will pass for both of us." The phrase felt like a wishful lie to himself even as he uttered the words. It felt so distasteful on his tongue he had to shake his head a bit. "Nice meeting you."

Harry turned away from him and started a wobbly path towards the exit of the cemetery, hand on his stomach. He glanced over at the spot he thought he saw his father once again - and he still saw nothing. And suddenly everything was silent again except the racing of his own murky thoughts.

(I thought this would be a good time to end the thread You can cap it off with another post if you'd like. We can get another thread going later when he's completely sober haha. Thanks for an awesome thread, jaime )