WYSTTAM: Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Talkin' out of our…

Caitlin woke up to the sound of her alarm screaming in her ear. Noooo, she thought. Trying to place the events from the night before was going to be a struggle, but she couldn't help but feel different. Better. It was as if the weight she had been carrying was gone.

She rolled over and shut off the alarm clock, sitting up and then crashing right back down due to the immense pounding in her head. Groaning, she reached under to pillow to grab her phone. Great. 20% battery, 7 texts and 3 missed calls from her mom. Grabbing her charger off the floor, she plugged the phone in and sat up, ignoring her notifications because not today.

She lifted the sheets off her, and noticed she was still wearing her clothes from the night before. Trying to place the events, she walked out her room and over to the kitchen. Glancing at the couch in passing. Remembering the past few days, and how THAT was her sanctuary, her spot to think, to sleep. She was headed for the refrigerator, but was taken aback when she saw a note on the countertop with a bottle of water set beside it. She picked up the note and brushed over it with her thumb. A smile growing on her tear stained face.

Whenever you're ready, I would love to get together and start studying for your board exam with you. I wrote my number on the bottom. Shoot me a text soon.

-Barry

P.S. I left you a bottle of water here, just in case.

"Well, this is it. Welcome to my very comfy and small crib," Caitlin said, scrunching her nose, cringing at her use of the word "crib". Her and Barry had just made it back to her apartment after what felt like a longer than usual and tiresome walk. Kicking her shoes off, Caitlin grabbed Barry's hand, bringing him over to her couch.

Barry looked around, taking in the small, but surprisingly comfortable, living space that Caitlin created for herself. A strong smell of vanilla and mint, tons of medical books lying around on the table in front of them, and a rocking chair that faced the window in the corner. Despite it being homey, he could tell that Caitlin hadn't done much with the place in weeks.

"I'm sorry, I haven't had much time to pick up around here," Caitlin mumbled, a small frown forming on her face. "I normally have a weekly deep cleaning session on Sunday nights. Butwith the way things have been going lately, that's the last thing on my mind."

"If you don't mind me asking...what exactly has been getting you down?" Barry questioned, curiosity growing in his words. He glanced over at Caitlin who was now looking down, picking at the worn sweater she was wearing.

Caitlin gave a weak smile to her new friend beside her. "Where do I start?" She let out a humorless laugh. "I told you about the whole, not passing my boards thing." She said. "Which I have to say, was the cherry on top of my terrible month."

"I'm sorry about that, Caitlin," Barry told her with compassion in his words.

She gave him a nod, as if to say thank you, but not wanting to speak in that moment, she could feel the sadness started to brew in her stomach all over again. Caitlin brought her head down to her hands, feeling a warmth grow on her back. She jumped, looking to Barry who was rubbing her back.

"I know we just met," Barry started, "-but I'm kind of the king of holding in emotions, and from experience, it's better to just let it all out," he said sympathetically. "I promise I wont judge - scouts honor." he said, holding up his hand.

Caitlin let out a sigh, an uneasy smile appearing on her face. "My dad, he was-uh, he was my best friend. The best part of me. He was a doctor, and I guess that's why I wanted to become one," she said, feeling the color drain from her face, a familiar coldness rising again. The words "do no harm" rang in her head.

Barry looked at her, as if his eyes were telling her to continue.

"He was a kind man, everyone he came in contact with knew that he was a truly kind soul, and never questioned his intentions," she said, the exhaustion in her voice filling the small space between them. She could feel herself getting too far into all this, and even wondered if she was sharing way too much. Caitlin stood up, looking in Barrys direction. "Do you want another drink? I could use one that's for sure." Her eyes appearing dull, lifeless.

"Yeah, sure. I'll take whatever you're having…" Barry replied.

Barry watched as Caitlin walked over to her kitchen whereshe opened a cabinet. He couldn't help butnotice that she only had a single bottle of wine on the shelf, and he wasn't sure if it was due to her not drinking or over drinking. Who was he to judge? Desperate times called for desperate measures. He noticed himself staring, and he wasn't the only one.

"You okay?" he heard Caitlin say from her kitchen, peeking out from behind the dark brown cabinet.

"Yeah, I was just thinking...I wanted to hear more about your dad. It seems like you guys were close," he muttered. "Were you close to your mom too?"

"I wouldn't say that,"she admitted, disappointment flooding her words. Tension filled the room that could be cut with a knife. She walked back over holding two wines glasses in each hand and the bottle under her arm. Wine seemed to give her liquid courage and spilling all her secrets to a new person was going to be difficult. Barry seemed different. Genuine, and she was going to take that as a sign to let herself release bottled up emotions.

Walking over to the couch, she handed Barry his glass and he thanked her. With a smile, she took a seat on the once warm spot she sat in before and started to speak.

"My mom and I had a, I guess you could say, complicated relationship? She didn't know how to be a positive influence in my life, and always looked at me as a negative," Caitlin whispered, taking a gulp from her glass, clutching it tight between her fingers. "I always wondered why her and my dad made it work. Or how. They were complete opposites. He always taught me that doing what makes me happy is always going to be the better option, while my mom on the other hand, taught me that you need to be a shark to make it out alive."

She felt a calm overtake her body, then looked down and saw Barry's hand on hers, his eyes urging her to go on.

"When my dad passed away, she didn't know how to react. I honestly didn't even realize how much she loved him until it was all too late to understand. But her way of thinking was to shut everyone out, including me. In a dark and twisted way, I thought that this would have brought us closer together. I figured that sharing this tragedy would make her cling to me. I haven't heard from her since we said our goodbyes at the Hospital. How messed up is that?" She felt a wave of emotions hit her and the tears began to flow. Bringing her hands up to her eyes, she let out a tsunami that had been brewing for two weeks straight.

Barry reached around her shoulders with his free hand and held her close, but not too close. He didn't want to scare her, but wanted her to know that how she was feeling wasn't wrong.

"Caitlin, I'm so sorry. I know how you're feeling." He heard a sniffle escape from the small framed girl he was holding in his arms.

"You do?" she questioned. Not moving from the spot she was currently in, legs curled up into her stomach and her head resting against Barry's chest.

"My mom passed away when I was 11; that was the hardest thing I've ever been through," he uttered. "I'm not going to sit here and tell you things will get better anytime soon, because I would be lying. Losing my mom was like losing a part of me that I don't think I'll ever get back. This pain you're feeling, that numbness, it will hurt like hell some days." He looked down to Caitlin and she looked up at him, a distant glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Some days youwill feel like you did before it all happened, and those days you'll almost forget what it felt like to be sad. When that happens, you take it and run with it, even if you feel the hopelessness creeping its way into your mind again. Everything you're feeling is clouding your better judgement and from what I can tell, your dad wouldn't have wanted you to get to this point," he voiced.

"Thanks, Barry. Really," she replied, soaking up everything he said, thinking about how her dad would have told her 'Pick your head up, Caity!'

"I'm being totally honest with you. You can and will get through this. It isn't going to make or break you. I know we just met, but I will always be here to talk whenever you need, and if you'll let me, I want to help you through this. Together. You and me." he whispered.

He looked down and noticed the change in her breathing. She was asleep, but looked peaceful. The worried wrinkle she had between her brows and the frown on her lips were gone. The pain and regret erased, for the time being. He was now looking at the most beautiful girl, sleeping soundly in his arms.

He grabbed the half empty glass from her fragile hands and set it on the table in front of them, right next to his. Barry wasn't exactly the strongest, but in this moment, a super strength overtook him. He picked Caitlin up from the couch and walked to the room directly across from them. The door was open, assuming it was hers because she didn't mention having any roommates. He walked through, feeling the wall beside him and flicking on the nearest light switch. He noticed that he bed in front of him was neatly made, but looked like it had been slept in, or on top of is more like it.

Walking over to the bed, he laid Caitlin down, pulling the sheets back and tucking her in. And as he walked away, towards the exit, he heard her rustle in the sheets. Looking back at her, he heard her mutter a "thank you," which instantly caused butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

Finally walking out of her room, he wandered straight to the spot they had been sitting and grabbed the wine glasses to take them over to the empty sink, pouring what was left down the drain. He looked over at the refrigerator beside him and opened up one of the doors. Noticing a few bottles of water, he grab one and set it on the countertop nearest the living room.

'Now where would she keep a pen and some paper?' he pondered. Looking around, he detected a small notepad with a marker attached to it on the counter directly in front of him. He smirked to himself, thinking of the most amazing women he was so lucky to have met, and he began to write...