Disclaimer:Nothing's mine but Melanie!
Melanie
Woodrow Hoyt stared silently out the large window, watching the bustle of nurses, doctors and patients milling about in the garden through guarded, crystalline blue eyes. His dark brown hair was rumpled and stuck out in every direction, his complexion pale from his surgeries and lack of sun, and his upper torso wrapped liberally in bandages and covered by a sheet.
It had been a week since he'd been shot by a sniper-a mere child who couldn't have been older than 16. The kid had wanted revenge for his father, who'd been shot by a police officer and Woody had been the one to find him.
He'd been through two surgeries-one to save his life and one to save his legs. The first had been successful. The second, they didn't know about yet, they had to wait for the swelling to go down before they could determine whether or not he would ever walk again.
He gave a weary sigh, envying the many people walking about in the hospital garden below him while he sat and watched them from his wheelchair-vantage-point in the hospital 'common room'. It was a rather large room, filled with couches, chairs and tables, shelves lined the walls, filled with all sorts of board games and books. And many different types of patients sat about the room, talking to each other and members of their families.
A young girl entered the room suddenly, drifting over to the armchair that was situated beside Woody. She had wavy shoulder-length, auburn red hair and emerald green eyes. She was petite at 5"2 and 15 years of age. She gave Woody a soft smile as she settled beside him.
"Hello," she murmured her voice soft and soothing as she glanced at him.
Woody grunted his response, staring out the window. He didn't want to talk to the people he loved, let alone a girl he didn't know.
The girl smiled understandingly, nodding as she said, "Yes, not many people like to talk about why they're here."
Woody glanced at her out the corner of his eyes, curious about her despite himself. Abruptly, he shot his gaze back out the window, determined to keep to himself.
"My name's Melanie." She introduced, grinning winningly at the older man.
And, despite his determination to remain in a bad mood, Woody couldn't help the answering smile that covered his own face. Her smile was quite contagious.
"I'm Woody." He said, smiling softly at her.
Melanie grinned, her eyes dancing with amusement at all the jokes she could come up with about his name. However, at Woody's scowl -having correctly interpreted the gleam in her eye- she remained silent, though her eyes danced impishly.
"So," she started genially, "What are you in for?"
"In for?" Woody returned, evading the question, "I wasn't aware we were in a prison."
Melanie grinned at him, "Ah, but you see, that's what they want you to think!"
Woody laughed –the first time he'd done so in a week. And, damn, did it feel good.
"So," Melanie persisted, "Answer the question, Big Man."
"Big Man?" Woody questioned, amusement in his eyes and voice.
"Yeah, what of it?" Melanie returned, shrugging her shoulders with a smile.
"Oh, nothing," Woody returned laughingly, "I just don't think I've ever been called 'Big Man'."
Melanie snorted, "Well you should have been! You're at least 6 feet tall- and I'm only 5"2- so there you go-Big Man."
Woody laughed, shaking his head at the younger woman who just grinned at him. Their amusement, however, was short lived, as a tall, strict-looking nurse entered the common room, looking for Melanie.
"Melanie!" she declared, her voice annoyingly high, "You're late for your appointment! What have I told you about running off young lady?"
Melanie just graced the older woman with a gentle smile, standing and gracefully accepting the Nurse's prodding. As she reached the door, she turned, throwing Woody a cheeky wave and an impish grin.
Woody smiled, lightened by the young woman's thirst for life and mischief. He'd been in silence but four seconds when one of the older patients –who'd been sitting with another man near Woody the whole time- spoke up.
"That poor Melanie." He sighed, shaking his head and sighing regretfully as he talked.
Woody looked over at the man sharply, asking, "What?"
The older man smiled sadly at him, saying, "That's right, you don't know the story, do you?"
Woody shook his head, the puzzlement on his face. The older man sighed, shifting about a few times to get comfortable before launching his tale.
"Melanie was kidnapped 2 months ago by some whackjob when she was walking down the street to meet some friends. The guy held her for about a week –raping and torturing her- before suddenly deciding to see what would happen if he threw her from a third story window.
"It took about a month and a half before she was physically alright. She doesn't really have to be in the hospital anymore, but the doctors, nurses and her family don't seem to think she's mentally stable enough to return to her normal life." The older man explained, eyes filled with sorrow for the wonderful young woman.
Woody frowned, "But she seemed alright to me –almost cheerful."
"That's because she is mostly alright." The man returned, "She knows what happened was just a freak occurrence, that it wasn't her fault and all that, but everyone seems to want to make her relive every detail so that they can 'know for sure'."
"That poor child," Woody murmured softly, eyes filling with compassion for the young woman-only a child.
"Melanie has that affect," the man smiled, shifting his body again, "She's like an angel for all of us. That child has been to hell and back, and yet she comes in here everyday and smiles and laughs more than the rest of us do. She plays all the old board games and sits and talks with us for hours. She's the sweetest, bravest little girl I've ever met."
"How does she do it?" Woody asked softly, looking at the door like Melanie would suddenly reappear and answer the questions.
"Lord only knows, boy," the man answered, "But I'll be damned if I sit here crying about not getting a new appendix while that girl goes on with her life like our world didn't let her get raped and tortured."
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Woody heard the door open and turned his head slightly on the pillow, watching Jordan slip in quietly. Her hair was wild and unkempt. Her eyes red-rimmed with heavy bags and filled with sadness. She looked tired and drawn-defeated.
Woody winced at the sight of the normally vivacious woman's appearance. He knew, without a doubt, that her horrible appearance was his fault-his fault for proving to her that everyone she finally lets in will leave her.
"Hi," she said in a soft, scratchy voice, eyeing him warily.
"I'm not an animal, Jo. I'm not going to get up and bite you." Woody murmured gently, hitting the button to make his bed lift into a sitting position.
"I dunno about that, Wood, I've seen you act like quite the predator!" Jordan teased lightly, moving cautiously to the chair at his bedside, still slightly wary.
Woody grinned widely, baring his teeth at her and growling jokingly. Jordan's own smile twitched on her lips, and then grew as Woody leaned towards her, snapping the air near her face. The smile fell, however, as Woody's face stayed near her own.
With a sudden, uncontrollable, impulse, Woody jerked the woman into his lap. Jordan sprawled sideways against him. Letting out a slight shriek of surprise, one hand resting on his chest for balance. She raised her indignant eyes, a scathing remark ready on her lips, only to find Woody's eyes on her own, burning with a fierce desire.
Jordan drew in sharp breath and Woody wasted no time. Bending his head, he took her lips fiercely, the hand he placed on the nape of her neck refusing her the choice of withdrawal. His lips moved gently over hers, enticing a gentle moan from her as his tongue slipped between her unresisting lips. Their tongues dance, dueling for but a moment, before Jordan acquiesced to him, letting him take over.
They broke the kiss a few moments later, breathing heavily. Woody stared at her, eyes filled with desire, love and wonderment and she blushed, dropping her eyes from his, but he reached out a finger, touching it gently to the bottom of her chin, forcing it up so their eyes met again.
"Can you ever forgive me, Jo?" Woody questioned softly, searching her eyes, "I'm sorry. I was a total ass and my only excuse is that I was scared. I was scared I was going to burden you-and I couldn't do that to you. You're too wild, too free for that kind of thing, Jo, which is all I could think about. But I can't lose you- it would kill me, because I love you Jordan, I love you!"
"What changed?" Jordan asked gently, running a finger gently down his face and absentmindedly tracing his jaw, "What made you realize it was worth it?"
"There's a teenager here-Melanie. She's amazing Jordan. She was kidnapped, beaten and raped and then thrown from a three-story window and she's so…alive! She smiles and laughs and jokes, like it didn't happen, like it doesn't matter what happened because she's alive." He paused, gazing hopefully into her eyes, "She taught me, without even realizing it, that at least I'm alive and to use that miracle to it's best advantage."
"I think I like Melanie," Jordan murmured, kissing him lightly, adding, "And I love you, too, Woody-always."
The small redhead walked by the room later that night, and paused, peeking in with a gentle smile. Woody held Jordan in his arms, her head resting under his chin. One of her hands held a fistful of his shirt, the other curled under her chin. They both had small, contented smiles on their faces.
"Love makes everything alright," Melanie whispered with a gentle smile, before turning and walking back to her own room, to the loving arms of her own family.
THE END
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A/N Yes, short I know, but it's just something that popped into my head one day and refused to leave me alone. Feedback is much welcome! And good watching!
Red