Standing By

Reconnecting

(Chris)

We stepped into the chaplain's room together. I was so glad Rob was with me, that he'd volunteered to help me. For one thing, I knew Chance would be upset with me—I'd kind of left him hanging, through no fault of my own. We'd had to run or we'd all be dead. But then I'd let Tris use my phone, and I'd forgotten about Chance, lost in my own head. And to top it off, I didn't know Chance super well. I had no idea what to expect. It would have been easier with any of the others because I knew them so well. Tim would yell and give me lip. Austin would scold me then cry. Rob would yell at me then issue a half-hearted apology and cry at me. Chance was still an unknown factor to me. Hopefully Rob would defuse any flying tempers and help to explain or smooth things over if need be.

Taking a breath, I seated myself on a bench. Ugh. It was like sitting on a brick. You'd think they'd try to make things as comfortable as possible for people who were bound to be grieving. I stood up and moved to the lone armchair. Shit, it was wet! I popped right back up the instant I felt the wetness. I didn't even want to know what I'd just sat in. Ugh. Giving up on the furniture, I settled down in the floor near the front, only to frown at some sticky gooey spot. I stood back up.

"Chris," Rob said frustratedly. "Find a spot and park it, would ya?"

"Well, floor's gross, chair's wet, and benches are uncomfortable," I grumbled, eyeing all three distastefully.

"Bench felt fine to me," he pointed out. "And we're only going to be sitting on it for a few minutes. Can't your butt just deal?"

"Nooo," I complained, feeling whiny.

Rob wasn't having it. He pushed me into the first bench, me landing with a thunk that was actually a bit painful. He giggled at me.

"Not nice," I grumbled, pulling my phone out of my pocket. Ugh. Just twenty-one percent battery. Hopefully someone would have a charger I could use. I found Chance's number in my recents and held my finger over his name before looking up at Rob. "How's he going to react? Is he a crier, a yeller, or what?"

He shook his head. "Not usually a crier. But he was hysterical when he called me, because he was so scared. He was crying then. Not usually a yeller. Typically fairly even-tempered, keeps a lot close to him. Typically," he enunciated. "Keeping in mind, this is not a typical situation."

"Really," I said dryly, finally just jabbing at his name. Here goes nothing. It rang twice.

"Chris!!!" Chance yelled in my ear, immediately dispelling the 'not typically a yeller' statement.

I winced involuntarily. "Hey Chance, it's Chris." Clearly, he already knew that. I made a face, aware that I was starting out sounding stupid.

"What's going on?" came a chorus of voices. I looked at Rob questioningly, who also looked confused.

"Um, who was that?" I asked apprehensively.

"Me, Tim, and Austin," Chance said impatiently. "Get on with it. What's going on?"

I blinked at Rob, taken aback by the tone in his voice. Rob shook his head at me, telling me to ignore it and move on. "I'm—"

"No need to be rude," I heard someone I thought might be Tim whisper to him.

"—sorry it took so long to—," I continued, smiling slightly that Tim took issue to Chance's tone and abruptness as well.

"Stay out of this!" Chance snapped.

"—call back, but we were pretty—"

"Don't yell at him," Tim warned Chance.

"Tim, hush. Elliott, shut it. Austin, your elbow is in my rib—move it. Chris, talk," Chance bossed.