There was no light streaming in through the open window when Patrick woke up.
He hadn’t felt his wife leave the bed, hadn’t smelt the fresh morning coffee that she had started, his exhaustion filling every bone in his body. Taking stock of what all they had had kept him up into the early hours of the morning, and even with the pure exhaustion he felt, his body wasn’t letting him rest. It was telling him to keep going, and as his mind turned, that was the only thing that he could think. Keep going.
Sitting up, his tired eyes trailed to his wife, standing motionless by the bedside window. She clutched a cup of coffee so hard her knuckles were white, and she was nearly shaking as her vacant eyes stared at one solitary place, unmoving.
”Margaret…” Patrick nearly whispered, hoping to not scare the woman. His wife remained deathly still.
Creeping out of bed, he first touched her side as he drew near, tentatively, as if touching her would have her burst into ash. When she remained as still as ever, he slowly wrapped his arms around her with his chest touching her back, enveloping her in a tight hug that he hoped would bring her out of her trance and into safety.
“It’s okay, Mar. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay,” Patrick spoke into her shoulder, his words muffled by her clothes. This wasn’t the first time he had had to comfort her like this, and it sure wouldn’t be the last. A sob ripped through her then, her coffee mug spilling from her hands as she turned into her husband. Comfort was the only thing that he could give her now, and he prayed that his words weren’t a lie.
Location: Bailey Residence; KitchenTimeframe Early Morning
Interaction(s): NonePreviously: N/A
The sound of banging echoed around the kitchen. A bat sat on the kitchen table, the wood cracked in a few places, with nails sticking out from the barrel. Another bat sat in a young man’s lap, teeth gritting as he pounded another nail into it. Weapons were Tommy’s first priority. Whatever these
things were, they had to be killable.
A wild explanative shot through the kitchen as when the hammer fell, it hit against thumb instead of nail.
“God dammit!” His hand flailed around as the pain throbbed through it, subsiding slowly. He couldn’t hold a nail now, though, another string of curses slipping from his lips.
“You’re being annoying,” his eyes narrowed as he shot a glare towards his younger sister, Emily rolling her eyes as she moved towards the cabinets, beginning to search for her breakfast.
“At least I’m doing something to keep us safe. What are you doing?” Tommy fired back, putting his latest project onto the table. She mimicked his words, mocking him, but said nothing back to defend herself.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he stood up, picking up the bat he had finished, and made to leave the room when another figure stepped in his way. The Bailey Matriarch, his “step-grandmother”, gave him a long, hard look.
“Thomas-”“It’s Tommy.”A sigh left her lips as she shook her head.
“You and I need to go into town.”“What?” Tommy was beginning to shake his head, his mouth opening in protest, when a wrinkled hand lifted to silence him. His mouth set into a hard line, her eyes telling him that he wouldn’t really have a choice in the matter.
“The diner still has some food stock, we need to get to it,” she moved around Tommy, making her way to a cabinet, and began to pull out reusable tote bags. The young man just watched her, his grip tightening on the bat in his hands. His gaze drifted to his younger sister, Emily having stopped her scrounging now, their eyes locking. Her eyes said what her mouth wouldn’t; “be careful.”
There were no more words exchanged between the family - they all knew that this had to be done. Whatever food they could get, they needed to get, at whatever cost they had. Cynthia led Tommy through the living room and out the front door, into the world that had changed completely from what they once knew.