Who: Cole What: A narrative Where: 802 When: After all this. Warnings: Depressingness.
Somehow Cole managed to make it up all eight flights of stairs and into his apartment. The lights were still on, and everything looked the same as it did before Jude had arrived at his door. The stench of death seemed to have followed him - or maybe it had been here all along, waiting for him to come home - so he decided a shower was in order. He turned the water on as hot as he could handle, scrubbing furiously to rid himself of the smell and feel of rotting flesh against his skin.
He didn't know if it worked or not, since his skin was numb by the time he'd gotten out and pulled on the warmest clothing he could find. The bedroom suddenly seemed too dark, too isolated; so he grabbed a pillow and decided to sleep on the couch.
Something small and hard ended up underneath his foot, and he was quick enough to catch himself before stepping on it and crushing it completely. He found himself sitting on the floor, cradling the thing in his hand. It was the ring Jude had left on his door, and he realized now that it was supposed to resemble those strings people tied on their fingers to remember things. Even without it he knew he'd never forget, but he ended up slipping the chain over his head anyway. Tomorrow, maybe, he'd put it somewhere safe - but tonight he'd wear it.
A pair of unblinking yellow eyes stared at him from the darkness under his couch, and before Cole could even react a furry black head popped out, ears flicking as if the creature was annoyed.
It was a cat. A black cat, no less. How the hell did a--
Oh. Of course - it was Jude's cat. She must have brought it with her when she came to his apartment. He didn't know if it was a male or a female, but somehow he suspected it was a girl.
"Hi."
The cat blinked, mouth opening in a silent hiss.
He moved back a little. "That's my couch you're hiding under, kitty." He frowned, reaching out a tentative hand. "I won't hurt you. I promise."
She - or he, whatever - glared suspiciously, but she craned her neck and delicately sniffed his outstretched fingers. For a moment, Cole actually thought the feline might like him... but then she vanished back underneath the couch.
"Fine. Damn cat." Suddenly his throat was tight and his eyes were blurry, and for one terrible moment he couldn't breathe-- then the first sob tore through him, and after that he couldn't keep back the tears even if he tried. It hurt even worse when he tried to fight it, so instead he let the grief wash over him, let it pull him down into the darkness and consume him. Images of Jude flashed across his eyes like movie clips, jumbled together in a mix of sound and color. She was happy, and then she was confused, and then she was in pain-- then nothing. Empty-eyed and decomposing, rotten flesh threatening to burst beneath his fingertips, cold lips like marble - bloodless.
He lost track of time, but at some point it ended; his throat was raw and his eyes bloodshot, but the pain faded to nothing more than a dull throb. Finally sleep crept in from the shadows to claim him, and he barely managed to crawl to the couch before his eyes closed and he sank into merciful blackness.