Screaming Gestures

A/N: Hello, readers! I just wanted to start by saying that I’m not exactly sure where I have this going yet. However, I am thankful that you’re giving this new story a chance. I also want you to know that, during the story, everything that it bolded and in quotation marks “like this” is conversation made from sign language. Hopefully this is a good direction that I have planned and I hope you enjoy this.

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything in Teen Wolf but my own characters. Wish I did though. :)

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~101 ~ 3207

Normalcy is overrated. Or at least it was now. People think that normal is a pretty, blue house, with a white picket fence, steady jobs, and two-point-five kids. Who says I want all that? Who says I want to spend the rest of my life, just waiting to die? I hoped I wasn’t going to be one of those people.

Truth is, I don’t even have normal. I just want my family, the one that I have now. I don’t care what my future holds. It took me until I was standing in the grass in front of a hole in the ground to realize it. All dressed in black with a tear-stained face, I was sure I had lost everything.

How are you supposed to get over that kind of pain? Does it go away? Do I have to push it away and forget about it? What if I didn’t want to get over it? Can’t there just be a way where I can have my family back?

I was with him when everything happened. I was right there, sitting next to him. I should have been me. It almost was. He saved me, though. He saved my life and I really wish he hadn’t. He left me with so much guilt towards what happened. Everyone was trying to convince me that it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have done anything.

He was my hero. Sure, he had saved my life, but at the price of his own. To me, that wasn’t worth it. He was better than me, in nearly every way possible. I had always lived in his shadow.

My eyes bore into the grey headstone, not blinking.

The rock was surrounded by flowers and mementos other people had of him. I wish I had something to leave for him. There were so many things that I could have brought. I couldn’t have decided what to leave behind. I guess it was a good thing I didn’t bring anything I could never get rid of something that I had of him.

In a moment, everything and everyone started to move around me. I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to leave. Leaving meant it was really over. That he was really gone and he wasn’t coming back.

“CJ.” My father’s voice called as he tapped my shoulder.

I turned to look at him.

He signed with to me with his hand. “We have to go now.” He was trying to be gentle, talking in a soft voice, keeping his distance. My dad knew how I handled things.

My mother, however, with her hand on my shoulder, well, she didn’t.

I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t go back to that strange house. To an empty room, with so much stuff, still in boxes from the impromptu move, right next door to my own.

I sighed and turned to look at my father. I begged my dad with my eyes for a few more minutes.

Dad looked at me, sadly. This was the man I had never seen cry. Not until I woke up in the hospital and he was sitting there. Just picturing that scene almost made my tears start up again.

My father nodded, he and my mother taking a few steps away from the grave, while I stepped towards it. Even though I was alone with him, I didn’t know what to say. Not that he could hear me, but I still felt like I should say something. I took a deep breath when I felt a lump in my throat. “Please tell me this is some sort of nightmare.” I paused. “What the hell am I going to do without my best friend?” I shook my head at the grave, suddenly hating it. “You couldn’t have been selfish this one time?” The water droplets started to fall from my eyes again and my legs became weak. I fell to my knees. That’s when I felt something touch my shoulder. I looked up, finding Carter standing there. I was lost, and in complete shock.

How did he get here? Carter should actually be here, but there he was, right in front of me. He looked the same as the last time I saw him. Brown hair, tousled and sticking up in different directions. Dark jeans and a plain colored t-shirt under his signature blazer jacket. My own grey eye color reflected in his.

Seeing Carter here, made me feel like crying even more.

“How are you holding up?” Carter asked, softly.

I scoffed. “How do you think I’m holding up?” I snapped. “You were gone! Where were you?”

Carter shook his head. “I wasn’t gone.”

“Well, you certainly weren’t here, comforting me.”

Carter knelt down next to me. He was trying to comfort me by getting onto my level. “I don’t think we should talk about this here.” Carter signed, looking over to my parents.

I turned to see them. They were both looking over at me, confused looks on their faces.

Carter’s hand waved in front of my face to gain my attention. “How about I meet you back at the house?” Carter suggested. “We’ll talk there. I promise.”

I looked at him, trying to find the sincerity in his eyes. I looked down to the ground, unsure of what to tell him. “How do I know you’re not gonna disappear on me again?”

“You’re just gonna have to trust me, June-Bug.”

I smiled a little bit at my nickname. I didn’t really like my first name, Chandler. While I was glad to have such an amazing “Friends” character as a namesake, the name sounded too stiff. Everyone normally called me CJ, but Carter was the only one who called on me with multiple variations of my middle name, June.

I nodded to Carter, giving in to his suggestion.

Carter smiled and leaned forward, kissing my forehead lightly. “See ya there, kid.”

I took a deep breath and used the gravestone to lift myself off the ground. I took another look at the stone, reading the engraving.

“CARTER JAMES PARKER

October 1, 1988 - August 20, 2012

Beloved Son and Brother”

Sure, maybe it was slightly crazy that I was seeing and talking to my dead brother. In my mind, it was better than nothing.

I turned back towards the only family that I had left: Mom and Dad. They stood together, watching me. Maybe they caught me talking to myself, unless they saw him, too. Given the look they were giving me, it wasn’t the latter.

I walked towards them, regretfully.

My mom put an arm around my shoulders.

I went to shrug her off, but changed my mind. I groaned, wishing that she would just give me some space. My mom was a hands-on person, I knew that. She needed this kind of comfort. What my mother didn’t know, was not everyone in the world was like her. Being like my dad, I was more the suffer in silence type.

For example, I was not looking forward to returning to that stupid house joining a gathering of people who would tell me how sorry they were and how much of a good guy that Carter was. I planned on going to my room and sulking for the rest of the night until Carter showed up.

Returning to Beacon Hills was not on my list of things to do before I graduated, and yet, here I was. Leaving Beacon Hill Cemetary was just an addition to my ‘Not To Do’ list. We only moved back here because of Carter. I think it’s been six or seven years since the last time we lived in Beacon Hills. After Carter graduated high school, the entire family packed up and followed him to college. My parents thought it would be best with how attached I was to him. Carter grew up in Beacon Hills, he deserved to be buried there, too. Now that he was back, so were we.

The car ride was silent, apart from my mother commenting how she was glad the weather held out. It was always so muggy and rainy here. I hated it.

I noticed my father glancing in the rearview mirror to check on me. I hope he didn’t think I was going to jump from the car. Dad probably turned the child lock on anyway, so I couldn’t open the door if I wanted.

My father pulled the car up to the four-bedroom house. The driveway had three other cars in the driveway: my car, my mom’s and what was left of Carter’s. The other cars, that were here for the ‘get-together,’ were parked along the street, going two or three houses passed my own. My aunt probably let all the people in, so they wouldn’t be standing out in the stuffy end-of-August air.

When we entered the house, everything stopped. The attention turned towards us as we opened the front door into the living room. Everyone was staring.

I could feel my face blush a deep red color. All the eyes were intimidating. It was like I was a new toy, recently broken, and no one knows what they should do. So they stare. And I felt like I was hyperventilating.

My father cleared his throat, freeing his hands so I could understand what he was about to say. “Thank you all for coming.” His voice was shaky.

It scared me seeing my big, tough dad be so distraught.

No one in the living room moved, still. There were people in the doorway to the kitchen on the left, and the dining room on the right. People sat on our couch, in places where Carter once sat.

My eyes watered. I pulled myself out of my mother’s ever-present grasp and ran up the stairs to my room. I couldn’t take all the eyes staring at me. They felt bad for me. I knew that. I already felt bad enough without their feelings being pushed onto me. I slammed my door and locked it. As I walked further into my room, I ripped off the stupid dress I was wearing. There was no way I was going to keep it on longer than I had to. I dug through some unpacked boxes in search of a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt I had stolen from Carter’s room before we moved. I climbed into my bed and rolled myself deep into the covers. I felt like sleeping and never waking up. I closed my eyes, wanting Carter to show up. If he was going to show up. I very well could have imagined the whole thing. Wouldn’t be the first time I thought I saw something that couldn’t be real.

I sighed, giving into my tiredness and getting to the brink of a deep sleep.

Only instead of falling into that peaceful and welcoming bliss, I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned sharply, backing away and falling off my bed. I looked back up, rubbing my back, trying to recover from the fall. I rolled my eyes at the sight of my mother. I shook my head at her, standing to my feet. “My door was locked.” I signed at her.

“I know. But your father hasn’t installed your flash doorbell yet.” Mom said, moving her hands along with the words. “There are a couple people who want to see you.”

“I don’t want to see anyone.”

Mom ignored my wishes and looked back at the door, calling them inside. Two women walked inside, both with red hair and definitely dressed for a wake. “Chandler, you remember Aunt Natalie. And your cousin, Lydia.”

“Sorta.” I signed, trying not to cringe at my mother calling me Chandler.

“Chandler, you’ve grown so much.” Aunt Natalie said to me.

“My name is CJ.” My gestures were sharp.

My mom gave me a scolding look, but she translated for me anyway. “She prefers to be called CJ.”

“Right. I remember that now.” Natalie looked back at her daughter. “Lydia, you remember her, right? You two used to be inseparable when you were little.”

I looked over at the red-haired beauty. She was much taller than I remember, of course, since it had been seven years since we moved away. Shyly, I waved at the girl.

“Yeah, I remember.” Lydia said. “Can’t say I remember much sign language. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. I can kinda hear you.” I told her. “And if you don’t talk too fast, I can read lips. It’s less accurate, but it works.”

Lydia looked really confused back at my mom.

“Chandler, you can talk.” My mom reminded me.

I shrugged. “Don’t feel like it.”

My mother sighed, turning to Lydia. “She can hear what you’re saying, it’s just muffled. Like she’s underwater.” She explained. “But she can also read lips, so talk slow.”

Natalie and my mom were taking steps out of my room.

“Mom?” Lydia said, protesting her mother’s departure.

“Oh, honey, you’ll be fine. We’ll be right downstairs. You two need to catch up.” Natalie smiled.

“Ah, but - ” Lydia’s words stopped with my mother closing the door. She turned back towards me and took a deep sigh.

“Sorry.” I said to her.

“You do talk.” Lydia noticed.

I shrugged. “I do. I feel like me not talking is my way of getting on my mom’s case.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “You don’t think you’ve all been through enough?”

“I didn’t want to come back here.” I said, shaking my head. I swallowed the growing lump in my throat and sat back onto my bed. “I know he’d want to be here, but being with my friends would have helped better.”

Lydia joined me, having nothing else to sit on but boxes. She pulled at her skirt, trying to keep it from riding up.

I noticed her struggle and passed her a pillow, hoping it might help her feel more comfortable.

“Thanks.” Lydia said, taking the pillow from my hands.

The two of us sat in an awkward silence for a long time. It was just like my mom to do something like this. Force me to bond with my cousin. Not that I didn’t want to, but the situation was too much for me to handle with Carter’s death alone. I didn’t want to be forced into making friends yet. I needed to adjust.

“You’re going to Beacon Hills High right?”

I nodded at her, not sure what else to say.

“Okay, so, I feel like to make both of our mom’s happy, we have to hang out. Why don’t you and I go out and find something cute for your to wear.”

I furrowed my brow at her. “Wear to what?”

“My best friend just got back from France. She was visiting family or something. So she and I were going to get together with some other friends. You’d need something to wear since you’re obviously not unpacked yet. And I figured, new place, new start. We can get something for the first day of school tomorrow.”

“I don’t know.” I said. I wasn’t really all for hanging out with so many people that I didn’t know. Plus, if I wasn’t imagining Carter earlier, he’d be coming back.

“I mean, you really don’t have to come if you don’t want to I just thought you might want to so you can get your mind off of some of the things going on right now.” Lydia continued to talk, but I was having a hard time keeping up with her.

I was shaking my head at her and trying to get her to stop. With no avail, I leaned forward, reaching for her hand.

“What?” Lydia asked, confused.

“You were talking too fast.”

Lydia laughed a little bit. “Sorry. I’m just - ”

“Not used to people who can’t really hear?” I asked, already knowing the answer. “It’s okay. I’m used to people who don’t know I can’t really hear them.”

“Maybe you can teach me sign language. So I don’t have to worry about talking slow.”

I laughed. “That may take a while.”

“I’m a fast learner.”

I bit my lip and then nodded. “Okay. I’ll come. But you have to promise not to leave me behind.”

“Of course.” Lydia responded.

I pushed myself out of my bed and walked towards one of my clothes boxes. “Let me just find some jeans and I’ll be right down.”

Lydia got off my bed and walked towards the door. “Great. I’ll go tell our moms.” And she left my room.

I couldn’t believe what I was doing. Why was I going out? I didn’t know anyone. I hardly knew Lydia and now I was going on shopping trips with her. The day of Carter’s funeral and all I was doing was going out with random people to some unknown place. I definitely should have asked more questions. I found a pair of skinny jeans anyway and pulled them on, reaching for my Chucks that sat by the door. I took a deep breath with my hand on the door handle, trying to prepare myself. I opened the door and walked into the hallway and down the stairs.

Everyone was still here and talking busily.

I looked around for my mom or Lydia. I found my mom first, talking in the kitchen with my aunt.

“I’m just worried about her, Nat.” My mom spoke.

I stopped, realizing she was talking about me. I hid myself behind the wall, peeking into the room so I could see what they were saying.

“She won’t talk to anyone but her father.” My mother said. “She only signs at me. She probably doesn’t even want anything to do with me.”

“She’s just in a bad place right now, Chris.” Natalie explained. “She’s just lost Carter. You can’t expect her to be happy and cheerful.”

“It’s not just that. She’s been talking to herself. She was talking at his grave.”

“She’s talking to Carter. CJ just believes that he can hear her.” Natalie reasoned.

My mom shook her head. “This is different. She was nodding. Like there was something responding to her, questioning her.”

My aunt sighed. “I guess that could be something to worry about. Maybe she needs some sort of counseling or therapy.”

I shook my head, stepping away from the door. What does she know? Natalie certainly doesn’t know me, so I don’t know why she’s saying I should go to therapy. I can’t talk about my feelings. Now they want me to talk with some stranger. God, my family is so insane. I would never be able to deal with Mom without Carter being the buffer between us.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned quickly.

Lydia stood behind me, apologizing quickly. “You ready?”

I shook my head. “I can’t go.” I told her, before running back up to my room. I locked my door again and pushed a pile of heavy boxes in front of the it. I lost the jeans, replacing them, once again with my sweatpants and crawled back under the covers. I waited for Carter as long as my eyes would allow before they closed and I drifted to sleep.