9 Key

Melancholy Elation

Key blinked away the heavy sun in her eyes. Rolling to her side, Key stretched the tired sleep from her limbs. Her legs trembled with the effort of keeping straight, and then they fell limp as Key then raised her arms above her head, groaning in pleasure as her palms touched the maple wood of her headboard. Her arms unable to protect her, the person beside her snaked his arms around her waist, drawing Key close to his chest.

She let out a startled squeak, yet grinned as he held her down to kiss her cheek. The soft lips of her husband gave her stomach butterflies, and he whispered, "Morning, brat." In a husky, tired tone. Yet he seemed happy. He cuddled her, burying his nose in her hair. Key giggled and she couldn't get out of his tight and gentle grasp, as she tried to wriggle away. He tensed, and in a flurry of white sheets and giggles, he was leaning over her, the comforter barley hanging over his sleek, peach like skin. His smile radiated down at her and he bent to kiss her and scoop her up close. Dizzy, and light headed, Key felt herself spin, as though she were in a dream.

His warm lips turned crisp and an iron taste filled Key's mouth. She furrowed her brow and struggled to get away. However, she was frozen and whether will or forced, she could not open her eyes. Suddenly, her husband jerked away, and his fingers locked down on her arms. Alarmed, Key was finally able to pry her eyes open. She gazed up at him, his face twisting into a gnarled expression of pain. Blood began to flow from his mouth like water from a f flood gate. The once handsome and amazing man she'd known was now sputtering blood in her face, trying to tell her something as he died.

Fear jolted Key, making her jump and tears began to flood mercilessly from their home. Stiffly, she raised her arms to cover her eyes, to try and stop the tears. She could hardly move her fingers, and the rest of her body began to cramp. Breathing deeply, she forced her muscles to move, and set about her day by looking at the clock beside the bed. She squinted pass tears that were still working their way pass the eye lids. She could barley make out the four and the thirty. That was at least two minutes more then the night before. Key sighed heavily, and upon deciding that dreams of the deceased were not the best sleeping persuasion, the widow pulled back the covers and moved her legs over the edge, standing swiftly.

Crunch!

Her body froze, yet again. Sharp piercing pain flew up her body from the soles of her feet. Not only that, but it was cold. Wet. Her throat closed, and she felt herself unable to breathe as her gazed shifted downward. She lifted her foot and stared at the splintered marrow that had lodged itself in her flesh. Accompanying that was the room temperature, sticky rusty life that belong to all living things. Unable to think, her body set into trembles. Hesitantly she looked up, farther toward the door. A crumpled heap of what looked to be clothing began to move away from her. It let out a faint gurgling sound, "Murch cra ker." It sounded with a disgruntled rasp. It then stopped moving, and a lump of what looked to be a head jerked her way, boring into her with sightless sockets. "Ker," It chortled as it turned toward her. Clawing at the floorboards and heaving it's crumpled body toward her.

Unable to bear it, Key let her eyes flood. She screamed, her voice forcing out air and broken sobs. She covered her eyes, screaming, "No! Please! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" over and over.

Claviera's eyes flew open. He didn't hesitate, not even to get dressed. He ran upstairs to Key's room, jerking the door open. He glanced at Key, watched her curl into the fetal position and listen to her screams while she brought her finger nails down her arms. He rushed to comfort her, tripping over a mound of clothing. He stumbled, nearly falling into the mess of glass and apple juice on the floor. He lightly stepped around it, sitting on the bed next to Key. He moved his hands to hold her shoulders, but she screamed in fear, moving to smack his chest. He caught her wrists and shouted. "Key! It's me," His tone hushed.

Key writhed a moment longer before opening her eyes. When they fell upon Calviera's face, she set into broken sobs, dropping her head into her palms. Calviera sighed, letting go of her wrists. He listened to her sniffle and hiccup absently, staring down at the puddle. There was blood mixed there in the contents of glass and juice. It looked fresh, too. He looked around then noticed the sheets were blooded around Key's feet. He blinked and gently reached for her slender leg. Key jumped at his touch, and looked up at him. He flicked on the lamp light, lifting her leg to look at the soles of her feet. Even now, the blood continued to ooze fro the pieces of glass stuck there. His brow wrinkled, he looked up at his companion. She was staring at the damage with a dumbfounded expression. "I thought… bones…" She muttered vaguely.

Calviera sighed, standing up from the bed. He skirted around the broken shards, and motioned for Key to scoot closer to him. Key quickly crawled toward him, her feet in the air. He then scooped her up, his arms holding her knees and her torso. He quickly walked out of the room and turned down the hall.

It was a long hall, for a long house. Cal was still surprised that Key had been able to afford her own house. Especially after it had taken them from Japan to Florida, and then to Alaska. Not to mention during that time, Calviera was the only one with a job, and a half assed one at that. He turned down into a small room. A pure white greeted them. In the corner, a sink, and next to it was a toilet. Which was able to flush with the press of a button. He sat Key on the toilet and moved to the medicine cabinet behind the mirror. He pulled down a bandage and some peroxide. He turned to look down at the girl.

Her body was fragile. Skin stretched over bone. Eyes as though she would look the same, even if she didn't have any. Yet, he thought, kneeling down in front of her, she was still beautiful. She was injured and distant but at specific times, appetite came back, and she could sleep until six, and she could laugh. He took up her foot in his hand, holding her ankle firmly he stared up at her, and then at the torn flesh. Glass glinted off crimson as he turned it to get a better look. Upon finding that the glass wasn't in there too bad, Calviera began to gently pull out the pieces. Key winced and whimpered in pain, but she remained still.

Silence surrounded the two of them. Calviera enjoyed the silence, but he wasn't too sure that Key did. She always use to be saying something, or doing something. Now a days, she never did anything. That was the only thing that Calviera wasn't too sure that he liked. He didn't press though, enjoying just taking things slow. He pulled out another shard, and Key began: "I saw Celtic. I though the juice and the glass were bones and- " She swallowed, as though to wet her mouth. "Blood. Celtic crawled, slid- I-I don't know, I just…"

Calviera listened, making mental notes that Key had been seeing things like that ever since her son had died. Calviera had been Key's companion since the day the King-her husband- had died. Key still wore her ring; she refused to take it off. It didn't matter to him. It was Key's ring, and he didn't have a say of what she did with it.

He paused, lowering his eyes At least she had something to remember her family by. When they left, he wasn't able to grab a single ting. No the teddy bear from his sister, he was barely even able to grab his mask. It infuriated him; they left the town, and they couldn't go back without being killed. He wasn't able to have anything of his sister…

"I'm sorry," Key's voice jerked at his brain, and he realized he had made his hand into a fist. He loosened it and looked up at her. Tears filled her eyes, yet again. "I'm sorry, I took you form Tomoyo. The last thing you need is to care for me," She was full-blown sobbing now. "I'm so sorry, Cal,"

Calviera sighed. He stood up and grabbed the toilet paper, balling some of it up. He handed it to the sad girl and tsked. "You've said that, five times since we got here." He chided slightly.

Key blew her nose in response. He sighed and looked down at her. "Let me look at your foot again,"

She obliged, lifting her delicate limb and he took it by the heel roughly, turning it to make sure he'd gotten all of the shards out. He plucked one more out and raised the medicine bottle, letting the contents pour onto the wound. Key tensed, hissing in pain as she tried to draw her foot away. He held her firmly, feeling her soft skin begin to sweat. Vaguely, he wondered what she felt from her perspective. Cold, freezing cold? Numbness? Sadness? He let go when her body stopped trembling and he reached up to the counter, fumbling to grab the bandage. He furrowed his brow as it fell and rolled out of his reach.

"Cal?" Key whimpered.

The man paused, leaning up to look at her. "Hm?" he stared at her blue eyes and nearly zoned out in them. "Do you… um… mind if I sleep next to you for now on?"

Cal flushed, moving his eyes to the floor where blood and peroxide danced and mingled. It wasn't like she hadn't slept next to him before. Yet, with him having a body, and Key was really cute… He looked up at her, about to tell her that he preferred to sleep alone, but when Key looked at him with such a broken expression, he sighed, holding up a finger. "One. One day." Key smiled and leaned over to hug him. He tense d as Key's arms enveloped around his neck, and he shivered at her breath. He sighed and put his hand on the small of her back. He found himself smiling, like a dumb a man. When she moved away, he noticed her tear up and found a pang of regret in his breast. Key was thinking of her husband and how the two use to hug each other. And act in a similar manner that Key and Calviera were. She was still afraid of doing anything like that with anyone. Calviera's eyes fell. "Key, you really don't have to-"

"Sorry! I know, I know, I just-" Key let out a breath and rubbed her eyes. She just what? What was the excuse she was going to give him? She couldn't think of one that he deserved. That was because he didn't deserve an excuse. But she had given him so many that she couldn't even remember what the truth was anymore.

It didn't seem to matter to Calviera, though. He sighed and grabbed onto the counter, hoisting himself up. He wrapped his arm around her knees and another around her back, careful where he placed his hands. Butterflies fluttered around her stomach and she stared up at Cal, his eyes tired and dark. Her eyes flitted down, guilty. Neither of them had been able to sleep well. "Why? Key woke up screaming and Calviera would wake up to comfort her. It was all Key's fault, she was an annoying child to Calviera. She looked down and rested her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'll try to sleep more," She stuttered. "I'll take sleeping pills." She looked up to see if it was okay with him. His eyes flicked down toward her and then away again.

"He wouldn't want that." His voice rumbled. His lips remained still, never curving into a smile, always a frown. "He didn't like it that you did when he was here." He mentioned her husband and Key's through hitched.

She forced out, "But, he doesn't have to deal—"

I don't want you to do it either," He cut off, kicking open the door with a dull thud. He grunted as he walked into the room, flicking on his lights. The room was clean, smelling like soap and fresh burnt wood. Ever since Key had shown him burning wood to draw, he'd used it all the time; when he wasn't working he was drawing. Key gazed around, still amazed by how much Calviera had drawn. He'd pinned thousands or maybe only hundreds of paintings and drawing all over his room.

"There. Do you see anything?" He asked, pivoting his torso so she could see every inch. There wasn't much to see; bright brown wooden floors., a nightstand a maple desk, a hamper that harbored special Calviera scents and finally the light blue color of his bed. He stepped toward the furniture, gently and cautiously dropping her. Key often forgot how the velvet engulfed and soothed her skin. She almost giggled at the feeling. Quickly crawling to her familiar side, she grabbed as much of the sheets and blankets as possible and curled up in them. Calviera sat down, rubbing his forehead, causing the white locks so rise up.

"Only tonight, Key." He reminded her yet again. He then rolled back what was left of the sheets and blankets that Key'd taken. She peered at him from her mound, watching carefully as he laid on the soft mattress, enveloping himself in the cushioning. He dozed off quickly. Minutes later, the covers shifted and the warmth of another body was brought close him. He sighed and turned over to glance down at Key, who was already asleep deeply. Why did she have to sleep with him? Every time she did, she never respected his personal space. It irritated him that he never got to sleep anymore. Key always had nightmares. And every time, she'd end up with him. However, since she didn't respect his personal space, he'd leave every time she was asleep.

Today would be no different, he decided. Gently, quietly, he walked along the wall of the room and out the door, down the hall and toward the front door. He stopped only momentarily to swipe his leather hooded jacket from the coat rack. He didn't need it, but it was a part of his image. He hardly went anywhere without it.

Once out the door, he locked it. It was still his job to protect her, and the least he could do while he was out was lock the door. Pocketing his keys, he pulled his hood up and over his eyes, shoved his hand in his jacket's pockets and strode down the cold street.

Eyes casted toward the ground, he absently made his way down the driveway and toward the liquor store. Feet clapping roughly against the pavement, he realized: He'd been away from Hell for a while. It wouldn't be surprising if something had happened. What was surprising was the fact that he hadn't been hunted down. The last time he'd been in hell was with Key, when Ichigo had been killed. The black mountain with burnt trees, the smell of burnt skin, and the image of the King run through with a sword, entered his mind. A man smirked as he watched the king try and get up. Key's brother was there, his flesh melting from his bones and screaming. Each scream ripped through Key and forced her to her knees. She couldn't move. Or maybe she wouldn't. She could only stared at the man who was laughing at her misery.

The man had taken control of the Lieutenants and had ambushed the king. The king tried hard to avoid Key, however, more of the Lieutenants had taken her and brought her to the fight. It had been a plan to slaughter both King and "Queen" of hell. Thanks to Cal and his loyalty, Key had survived. The last thing the king told them both was "Run." So that was what they did.

However, Cal was unsure it would help at all. It was just a matter of time before Someone would find them. He bit his lip. There was soon to be a war on their shoulders. They both had to be ready for the fight.

Cal's feet froze. His heart fluttered, as though someone was behind him, ready to jump him. Cal quickly turned an icicle in his hand. There was nothing. Just a street paved with ice and a street light that casted the serene ice into a wonderland, almost carnival like. However, the feeling of being watched never left him. Calmly, he dropped the icicle and turned around. He had to head back. Whatever was out there watching him would head to the house where the sleeping beauty lay.