Sable gave Carrie a tiny nod as she bid him goodnight, but stayed quiet as she left him alone, glad that she had shut the door behind her. He took a deep breath once her footsteps faded, tipping his head back and willing himself to relax, but it wasn’t working. None of this made any sense and he was in pain and uncomfortable, none of this made for a happy Sable.
The teenager gingerly pulled off his t-shirt and shuck off his jeans before pulling on his pyjamas. He’d always lived in other people’s homes, usually in shared rooms, so he never considered sleeping naked. His bottoms were soft, but obviously well worn and too short for the boy - he could remember them dragging under his feet when he’s first had them, now they showed off his ankles and settled low on his hips. He took a moment to wander into the bathroom, brushing his teeth before letting himself eye up his injuries. The stitches were covered by thick, clean bandages - well, they had been clean, now there were some signs of blood seeping through but Sable didn’t want to remove them to examine them more closely - although he did pick at the edge of the one on his chest before deciding it was stuck on securely enough that he didn’t want to pull it off. He could remember clearly the shape of the scratch marks on his chest though, claw marks, and the teeth which had clamped down on his shoulder, which had felt like they had gone right to the bone when it had been done.
Sable suddenly felt himself shaking and he backed up against the wall, slumping down to the cold tiled floor of the bathroom, his energy completely sapped. His body was shaking and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He had been attacked, he could have been killed, and now he was here, in a stranger’s home and if what they had said was true, he would be turning into a monster at the next full moon. Or if he ever lost his temper. Fuck.
His eyes slid shut and Sable rested his head back against the wall - staying still for almost half an hour before he felt calm enough to be able to stand up again without his legs given way underneath him. Still from sitting on the cold floor Sable heaved himself up and stumbled through into the bedroom, leaving on the bedside light as he collapsed into bed after pulling on a t-shirt he usually slept in. He usually curled up on his side, but with his shoulder and chest hurting he couldn’t make himself comfortable so ended up sprawled on his back, his dark eyes shutting and sleep coming almost instantly.
Despite falling asleep quickly, it wasn’t a restful slumber. He tossed and turned, sweating and whimpering as he was chased through his dreams by monsters, dark creatures with glowing eyes, huge teeth, harp claws. Suddenly then he was turning to face it, then transforming himself. He was becoming a creature, a werewolf, his body was changing shape and he didn’t even recognise himself in his mind’s eye. There were people there, people he knew in the homes, Carrie cowering away from him in fear. Suddenly he lunged at her throat and Sable woke up suddenly, jerking upright, his cheeks pink and his breathing heavy. The teen had managed to kick off his covers completely and twisted around somehow - his pillow was on the floor. Sable lifted a hand to dash away tears from his eyes and glanced around to try to find a drink but there was nothing there. Unwilling to go back to sleep yet Sable clambered out of bed, scooping up his pillow and tossing it onto the bed before padding barefoot out of the bedroom and venturing up the stairs. He felt stiff and sore, but felt more comfortable moving around than just lying still.
The boy found the kitchen in the dark and after a little rummaging around located a mug to get some water. As he rinsed out the mug Sable found his hands were still shaking and after a second leaning over the sink he silently made his way upstairs, finding Carrie’s bedroom.
He knocked quietly on the partly open door, then knocked a little louder as he looked inside.
“Miss… Miss Jones?” Sable said, hoping Carrie would wake up easily. He felt guilty about waking her up, but the idea of going back to that room alone right now and being left alone with his thoughts just sounds horrible. He sidled into the room, lifting a hand to run through his messy black hair, lifting up his already too short t-shirt to show off a little of his toned stomach.
“How… how do you do this?” he asked quietly once he saw her eyes open, his voice breaking a little on the last word, still feeling shaky, his dark eyes filled with worry. “I don’t think I can.”