Woooo! An up-date! Shocker, right?
Anyway, 'thank you's to: LightAngelHiroko , J. Jocelyn , TakeonMe-Mow , Soulfulbard, Zinnia99 , h, ReadAllTheDramioneFics, HermioneRavenclawMalfoy, KandyRaine, The Many and One, kta250298, everyone else I forgot to mention and to the people who are still bothering with me. xD
Name: 'Obstructed Views' (TT fic)
Summary: He had decided: he needed a change. But what he didn't realize was that she wasn't offering herself as one when she found him passed out on the side of the road. (AU)
Chars: Beastboy, Raven;
Genre: Drama;
Rating: strong T;
Beta: LovelyWeather;
Chapter 4
She couldn't remember how it went exactly, but there was a saying which illustrated how the changes in nature were slow, subtle and beautiful with every changing season; edging people into appreciating life and the environment with every poetic and whimsical wording. In Rachel Roth's opinion, the anonymous poet had never traveled the Arizona desert nearing September.
The first low rumble of thunder rang in the distance.
The change within the weather was as slow and subtle as a hormonal teenage girl on her period. Despite the first sunny rays that peaked above the horizon, a mass of heavy gray clouds appeared, taking the metaphorical meaning of 'out of nowhere' quite literally.
Her finger taped steadily against the steering wheel as she kept glancing at the dashboard. The gas needle was dangerously leaning towards the end of its axis. Rachel bit her lip, nerves slowly but surely getting to her. She scanned theempty landscape for the millionth time that day. The grumble of electricity echoed somewhere far, hopefully very far above them. Perky and up-beat music blared into her ears. And then there was-
"Gurghhhhhh..."
-that.
The sunburned mop of blond hair slumped against the glove compartment and groaning in pain. "Ghnmmm..." Repeatedly.
It wasn't long after their departure that the man named Garfieldfelt the first tell-tale signs of her warning. It started with light waves of pain he tried to overcome with a brave face and a grimace here and there. But as the pain progressed, it wasn't long before he doubled over, resting his head against the glove-compartment and started groaning it away. His breathing became fast and laborious, near erratic at times, followed by suppressed grunts and choked moans. He tried keeping those to a minimum, but- "Urghhh..."
Well, he wasn't as successful in that endeavor as he might have hoped. She made sure not to comment and opted to pretend she hadn't heard him.
She was aware that the action would be dubbed as apathetic, she'd been accused of it quite often. Rather, she thought she was doing him a favor in letting him deal with the pain however he wanted than rely on her for flimsy reassurance and poor comfort. She had experience with neither.
Still- It was unsettling. "Urghhh..." Her eyes narrowed.
And distracting. Very distracting.
The muffled whimpers pulled at the cords of her emotions that reminded her of how she was, in fact, a human being capable of feeling sympathy. Meaning, there was nothing to prevent her from indulging an utterly horrible idea.
She glanced at the passenger seat, trying not to worry her lip too much. "Um, so..."
"How... are you... holding up?"
...
...Why yes, she felt as awkward as she had sounded.
The man beside her was quiet. "Good..." A pause. "I guess..."
She pressed her lips together. "That's...-good to hear."
The whirling sound of the engine and obnoxious music continued to fill the silence between them. Later on she'll have to remind herself to do some soul searching, find that little bubble of empathy which pushed her into applying her non-existent comforting skills and squish it to save the world of the awkwardness that was Rachel Roth at attempting small talk.
She sighed. "It probably won't be long until we reach a gas-station or something so... just hang in there, okay?"
A hesitant 'okay' was his reply and Rachel felt perfectly content on pulling her attention solely on the road ahead of them. Because it couldn't- no, it shouldn't be taking them this long to come across some sign of civilization one way or the another. Right?
She had to restock on gas and water. Some ointment for the guy. Food. Then she pretty much started compiling a whole list of supplies she'd need for two. Rachel was far from prepared for a road-trip: money and equipment-vise. Gas and ointment for the man would have to be the priorities. The first would cost quite a penny, and there was a very high chance the medicine wouldn't come cheap either.
A heavy weight in her temples told her that she'd also need some coffee. Yeah, coffee. Coffee sounded really good about now. Either that or a good slap to the face.
The cellphone snuggled under the small space under the radio still showed no cellphone service. She had to wonder how many messages and angry voice mails were waiting for her once she was within range. That was, if they figured out she was gone.
That's when it occurred to her. "If we come across a gas station they're bound to have cellphone service or a functioning land-line. Do you have anyone you could call?" Like friends, family, girlfriend, the criminal circle that most likely wanted him dead? Now there was a thought.
Hey, it was a legit concern! People didn't just wake up and spontaneously decide to take a hike across a desert with nothing but cloths on their backs. His identity, the name Garfield, left her suspicious if anything. Seriously, who'd name their child Garfield? That just had 'childhood trauma' written all over it. It was only then that Rachel noticed that he had yet to answer her question.
"Hey?" She turned to look at him. He remained still, slumped against the glove-compartment. For the briefest of moments she actually thought he was considering who he'd call. And then she recognized the steady breathing pattern of a sleeping person.
"Hey!" She reached across and smacked the back of his head, waking him up with a yelp. "I told you not to sleep!"
"Urghhh... s-sorry..." He whined out, intertwining his fingers into his dirty blond lock. " I didn't mean to its just... my head is killing me..."
"Yeah, roasting in the sun will do that to you," she deadpanned.
"Sorry," he mumbled out. His words were weak and croaky. It was... really pathetic. Sighing, she reached in between the seats and handed him the nearly empty bottle of water. "Here."
He glanced at the object from underneath his locks, judging the amount of liquid that sloshed around the plastic container. "There's not a lot of it." He absentmindedly bit his lip. "Are you sure?"
The woman questioned raised a slim eyebrow at him. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't."
He searched her face, half expecting to find a sympathetic smile, or anything other than the hard neutral expression staring back at him. The blond wasn't sure what to make of it. Hesitantly, he took the bottle from her. He really didn't dare argue since the bruise on the side of her face gave her a slightly gangster look. And to someone whose brain was still up to no speed... this woman was rather intimidating. He tipped the bottle and drank whatever was left inside, the pounding in his head slowly giving way.
"Now," she said once he put away the bottle, "Like I was saying earlier: do you have anyone you can call once we reach a gas-station or whatever?"
Rubbing his eyes in concentration, the first people that came to his mind were his parents. But that idea was immediately scrapped up. Because nothing says "I'm a damn grownup who made a huge-ass life decision" like calling his parents. Yeah. No.
"Ummm, a friend of mine," he answered, nodding once to himself on making a good choice, "I was heading to his place."
She glanced at him, eyes narrowed almost skeptically, "You have his number?"
He turned to her, confusion evident on his face. "Um, yeah?" Of course he had his number. Duh? How else would he call him?
Her whole body language suddenly changed and spoke in intense volumes of 'I'm talking to a moron' kind of way. "Written somewhere?"
Seriously? What was her deal? What did she take him for? An idiot? "Yes, in my cellphone." He said like it was the obvious thing in the world.
Ha! Who's the idiot now?
"And your cellphone would be...?" She left her sentence hanging, leading him to slowly connect the dots in his head.
"In my-..." and slowly it dawned on him. Oh. Fuck.
He hit his head against the dashboard. The girl (Rachel, was it?) sighed in frustration. "Jesus Christ. How the hell did you end up with absolutely nothing in the middle of nowhere anyway?"
Garfield contemplated between answering her and keeping silent to save some self-respect in front of this stranger of a woman.. But then he figured that he owned her an explanation. She did in fact save his sorry sunburned ass.
So he took a slow breath and waved the rest of his dignity goodbye. "It's... kind of embarrassing..."
That earned him her full attention.
~~ (O) ~~
Garfield Logan was never good at standing still. Never was, never will be. Not as a toddler, nor a kid (ha! definitely not as a kid) or a teenager. Hell, not even now as a twenty-three year old college graduate. He was so bad at it that, at one point in his childhood, his parents took him to a psychiatrist to check for possible ADHD. Turns out: he was just your average lanky kid whose biggest problem was being overly awkward when standing idle for too long and not knowing what to do with his hands. That, and maybe having one too many chocolate-bars could have been the problem.
Point being: Garfield Logan was not made for staying motionless for long periods of time. So siting in a seat covered in cheap plush, waiting for the bus to stop and fighting boredom wasn't exactly how he imagined starting the new chapter of his life.
The new chapter of his life... the very thought had him gripping the handles on his sides.
This was big. Moving away. Leaving behind familiarity, everyone he knew, everything he was; leaving for the blank pages of future in a place he had yet to see. It was downright terrifying.
...and he couldn't wait for it!
Despite the way his stomach clenched, the nervous tick making his leg jump in place and the foreboding feeling of utter doom awaiting ahead, there was no denying the buzz of excitement lurking underneath his skin.
This was how his journey began. Confined to a semi-comfortable seat, with a dead gameboy in hand and nothing to distract him from the jitters crawling along his muscles.
'Funny,' he eyed the blank screen of the little device. He thought the battery would last longer. Shrugging, he stuffed it into the old backpack near his feet and took out his cellphone instead, seeking instant entertainment like any other victim of this technology-addicted age. The screen came to life revealing a simple background, time and date, and the status of his battery in the top-right corner which just happened to read 48%.
"You have got to be kidding me..." he mumbled, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. Could he have really forgotten to recharge his phone? Really? Unbelievable.
Sighing and tapping his finger in nervous habit, Garfield layed out the options in his head: indulge his need to play Mutant Monkey Warriors 2, waste what little energy this thing had and pray he wouldn't need it later; or put it back, conserve the battery in case of emergency and find something else to do.
The obvious smart thing to do would have been to put it away. But there was a voice somewhere in the back of his mind, whining about how one game wouldn't kill the damn thing. Or two for that matter! He was just being irrational. Hell, he could just as easily keep an eye on the battery status and stop when it reaches 20%... or even 15%. Maybe 10%? Did he even really need a cellphone?
Weighting the pros and cons of both decisions the blond suddenly realized: ...why was he even thinking about this? Of course it would be irresponsible! And Garfield Logan was not gonna start the new chapter of his life with being irresponsible. No sir. No how. He was going to be mature, patient and well prepared like the goddamn adult he was!
Nodding to himself, he tucked the cellphone into his bag, crossed his arms behind his head and sat back, fully intent on relaxing and enjoying his trip. Yeah, that's what he was going to do. Relax. He didn't need something like games to pass the time. Besides, he was way too tense. He could just settle back and enjoy the ride to Jump City...
… as soon as he found a more comfortable position for his arms.
He uncrossed them and set them down on the handles of his seat.
Then he grew uncomfortable and put them on his knees.
The pose made him feel self-conscious for some reason, so he opted for crossing his arms over his stomach.
There! Perfect! He closed his eyes and slowly leaned his head back against the seat... and realized how uncomfortable his neck was. He angled his head to the right. Nope. Then he tried on the left. Still wasn't it. He wiggled in his seat, trying to find a comfortable position. He tried adjusting his height. Didn't work. Maybe if he tried moving to his side? A series of awkward movement accompanied that thought as he tried shifting to his side.
By that point he noticed the man in the neighboring seat looking up from his iPhone and giving him an odd look. Garfield tried offering him a charming grin, which just kind of ended up being as awkward as he felt, and sat back in his primary position feeling more than a little embarrassed.
Okay, this wasn't working. Obviously.
He bit his lip and glanced at the old plump man sitting beside him, snoring away without a care in the world since he got on the bus. He made it look so easy. There was a slightly jealous note in that thought. Garfield took a slow breath and leaned back against his seat. 'Come on, relax Gar, you can do this. Just close your eyes... and relax.'
He stared at the ceiling, willing himself to unwind the stiffness hiding in his muscles and waited for his eyes to fall closed of their own accord. That, of course, didn't happen and he ended up counting the holes of the speakers above him. Once he realized what he was doing he groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms.
This was impossible. He really needed something to do. Games were out of the question. Relaxing didn't seem like an option. So what else could he do that was time consuming? He yanked open his backpack and dug around it. An extra T-shirt, chips, his gameboy, a two-liter bottle of soda, paper-tissues, his wallet... a book?
Huh... well that was always an option. How'd that get in there anyway? He puled it out an ran his eyes across the cover. The title 'HOW TO PAY ZERO TAXES' sounded vaguely familiar to him and slowly it came back to him. He bought it the day he decided to do this. Along with a whole bunch of other reference books and guides on things that he believed fell into the category of 'what every responsible person who was gonna live on their own' should know. Taxes included. They were important and he ought to learn as much about them if he was gonna live a stable bachelor life without too many financial worries. Like an a adult.
For the briefest of moments he wondered if he was developing an inferiority complex. But that worry was quickly shrugged off as he reached for his bottle of soda and opened the book, starting to read away about the merits and drawbacks of a wide variety of tax reduction strategies. And so he read on, drinking his beverage. And drinking. And drinking. And drinking some more. One quarter gone. Then half. Three quarters. And sometime while reading his book he fell asleep.
~~ (O) ~~
"...-cus -e?"
"... -cuse me?" The unfamiliar voice repeated louder, hence it barely even registered in his brain. But the note of annoyance it held certainly did.
"Excuse me, sir?"
If he didn't know any better it sounded like that person was talking to him. And then he realized that, oh shit, yes, a person was in fact talking to him. His eyes snapped open. "Huh- Wha-!"
A middle-aged woman stared down at him, a look of mild frustration veneered over with politeness on her face. A young boy glanced at him from behind her, along with a whole line of other people with variety of confused stares.
"Would you mind moving please? You're blocking the path..."
It took him a moment to realize that he had fallen asleep. Another few to comprehend that his legs were stretched out across the small space between the rows of seats, effectively blocking it. And to top it all off, it took an unfamiliar snore and a crane of his neck for him to come to the embarrassing conclusion that he'd been using the old man (who was still very much asleep, thank God) beside him as a pillow.
The woman cleared her throat to get his attention and Garfield immediately straightened up. "Oh. Oh! Sorry! Just a second- Sorry!" He stumbled over his words and shifted himself as fast as possible back into his seat, displaying as much as elegance and pose as would an elephant doing ballet. Eventually, the path was cleared, he was sitting like a normal person should, while the line of people slowly moved pass him to their assigned seats, occasionally glancing at him.
The lingering embarrassment made him want to shrink on in himself. He was getting tense all over again. A weird tick was coiling in his leg muscles and a sort of pressure weighted down in his stomach. He attributed that to his most recent sleeping position at first. That is until he realized what that feeling actually was... The soda he drank coming back with a vengeance.
Garfield straightened up, glancing over the top of his seat at the slowly moving lane of people. He bit his lip. His incline to get up was swaying at the thought of causing more trouble by trying to move in the opposite direction of other people in that narrow space. He already unintentionally made a traffic jam, and the thought of making another one shortly after, well...
With a deep breath he decided that it was fine. He could hold it. He totally could. No need to rush Really. It wasn't like there were almost 2 liters of soda slushing around in his bladder. Nope. No biggie, he could hold it. He could hold it like a pro. Like a champ. Like a- Jesus Christ, how many people were in this dingy bus anyway? The line didn't seem to be getting any smaller. People were still piling in, making the blond wonder how much longer they would be on the break (as he assumed that was the cause for their stop).
Gathering his resolve he leaned towards the man in the neighboring seat. "Excuse me?" The man was a second away from putting his earphones in when he interrupted him and got his attention. "Do you happen to know how much longer we'll be on break?"
"It just ended," the guy said with a slight frown and Garfield could feel his stomach drop in dread. "They called us all back to the bus just like a minute ago."
Body suddenly entering survival mode, the blond abruptly stood up, threw a 'thank you' over his shoulder and proceeded to weave and wiggle his way to the exit because, fuck it, he won't be able to hold it for the next who-knows-how-many hours.
"Sorry! Pardon me! Excuse me! Sorry!" He rambled on with each bump and push in his dash to reach the door of the bus. Upon his not-so-graceful exit, he noted they weren't at a gas-station. The high afternoon sun lit up the fields of dusty bare hills and a single flat-roofed house he identified as the bathroom. This must have been an unplanned stop. There weren't too many people loitering outside- most were wrapping up phonecalls or finishing their cigarettes. Garfield sped right pass them and skillfully avoided colliding into some innocent soul that happened to be in his path. He didn't need to look around to know the bathroom was a dump, the smell spoke for itself. There were no urinals, only a row of four stalls of which most were closed and a single sink that looked like it was about to fall off of the wall at any given moment.
As soon as he entered the said sorry excuse for a restroom, a stall opened up. Lucky! He went around the man exiting and reached for the door when a bulky frame appeared in front of him. Obese, wearing a light blue shirt with the logo of a traveling agency, bold and cheeks hanging off of him like a bulldog, Garfield immediately identified him as the driver he had seen upon boarding the bus.
The man looked at him in cold indifference and had sort of a douchbaggy air around him, so Garfield honestly didn't know what in the world possessed him to try and press his luck. "Um, sorry dude, would you mind if I go first?"
"Yes," was the answer he got.
Strangely enough, that didn't discourage him. Desperate times called for desperate measures. And as it just so happened, Garfield was in a desperate need of a bathroom. "Please?" he pressed again, "I won't take long! Promise! It's kind of an emergency and I really-"
"Tough."
Okay, this man was an ass. "Come on, please, dude! I'm not asking for a kidney here!"
"Listen," the man fully turned to him, a scowl etched into his face, "I've been driving you people around all morning. I think I've got the right to go to the bathroom first. So keep your pants on and wait your turn."
With that he entered the stall and Garfield considered outright telling him to shit out that stick up his ass while he was at it, but sadly his attention was drawn back to a more pressing matter. And that was that he was running out of time. Fast.
Biting back a curse, he quickly scanned over the other stalls, momentarily wondering if he could maybe go to the girls bathroom, when he caught sight of an open one at the very end of the bathroom. Its door wide and open, as if awaiting him with open arms.
'Ha! Well would you look at that?' He grinned and wasted no time in reaching it. He should have just gone here instead. Would have wasted much less time and politeness if he did so. With that he entered the stall and closed the door behind him.
The very same door that had a piece of paper duck-taped to it, that read: LOCK DEFECTIVE! DO NOT USE!
Garfield quickly fumbled with his pants and not soon after felt freedom. Sweet, sweet freedom. He sighed in relief. His eyes rested on the squatting toilet in front of him, but the dark yellow botches and dirt covering it made him avert his gaze upward to the cracked ceiling. Jeez, this place really was a dump. Oh, well. Not like it mattered anyway. Soon he will be back on the bus again, and within a few hours he would be in Jump City, starting anew. The sound of dripping liquid was suddenly overlapped by the sound of other stalls opening, followed by footsteps that grew fainter and then eventual silence.
He stood there a few more moments, finishing up, before zipping his pants up and reaching for the handle and lock digit... that for some reason wouldn't turn.
"Huh?" he frowned, not fully aware of what was happening. He turned it again with the same outcome. "What the hell?"
He franticly tried twisting it but it kept stopping midway with a dull clinking sound. "Urgh! You-! Have got-! …. ARGH! What the hell?!" He released the lock after trying to use brute strength to make it turn and failed as it didn't even budge.
Ultimately, he stepped back and called out. "Hello?"
No answer.
"Hey? Is anybody out there?" He pounded his fist against the door a few times hoping he'd catch someone's attention. Garfield leaned his ear on the stall's surface, trying to pick up on peoples' voices from the outside should anyone hear him. And then he heard the low purr of an engine in the distance.
Shit. Oh shit!
~~ (O) ~~
The bus' co-driver slowly strode in between the rows of seats, looking over the papers pinned to his writing board and surveying the taken seats and few vacant ones they weren't able to fill out. A lot of people who made reservations didn't show up that morning, so there were quite a few empty spaces they were able to use up for people who just bought their tickets.
Stopping in his tracks, the young man turned towards a sleeping senior.
"Excuse me, sir?" He gently shook the elderly awake. "Sir? Was there someone sitting beside you?"
The old man groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly before looking up at him. A gentle wrinkled frown crossing his face. "Huh? Umm, no? I don't think so."
The co-driver gave a curt nod, "I see, thank you. Sorry for bothering you." He jotted something down before turning towards the front of the bus and calling out. "Everything is good here Joe! We're good to go!"
The vehicle rumbled to life, steadying into a gentle hum as the engine started working.
~~ (O) ~~
"...You're serious?"
By this point Garfield was glad that he was red all over, embarrassment making his face and ears warm up and blend in with his roasted skin-tone perfectly.
"Yes."
The young woman stared at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed in disbelief as he wrapped up his explanation. "By the time I managed to climb over the stall's wall, the bus was long gone. And that's pretty much it," he sighed.
"So you were stuck in the restroom... and the bus just left?" she said slowly as if to clarify if she understood this correctly, "That's how you ended up like that?
"Yeeep," he pointedly turned to look out the window avoiding her face. "That's the gist of it." He prepared himself for upcoming laughter that would probably do a bang-up job on his already shaky self-esteem. However, strange as it was, all he got was an: "I see," and that was it. Blinking in apparent confusion he turned in her direction. She took a cigarette out of the pocket as if he hadn't just told her the most embarrassing turned life-threatening story in the history of mankind, just to frown at the little rolled up thing in her hand and decide against it.
After staring at her like that for a few moments, she snapped."What?"
"You're," he swallowed his saliva, "... not laughing?"
She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, the word 'irritated' clearly all over her face. "Am I supposed to?"
"Well yes... I mean, no! I mean-!" he quickly forced himself to take a moment and align his thoughts with words, hoping to avoid falling into a clumsy rant. "What I meant was," he started slowly, his eyes falling onto his dirty knees. "It's... not the response I expected," he admitted.
That acknowledgment pulled at a string in his subconscience. The one he didn't like to remember having, especially when in company of other people. It resonated within him and melted into his psyche. It made him feel heavy, carrying a weight his muscles were unfamiliar with.
"Sorry to disappoint," she monotoned.
"I just thought," he fumbled with his fingers, feeling the need to explain further, "You'd... laugh. Or say how the whole situation was ridiculous and stupid." He bit his lip and picked at the make-shift bandage he made out of his shirt. It felt easier saying thing like this once you weren't directly saying them to someone's face. "Sorry... Didn't mean to say or imply that you were that kind of person. It's just... that's the usual kind of respond I expect from people. It's all... taken like a joke and not serious, ya know?"
Had he looked up he would have seen her whole posture tense up and the irritation on her face shift into something else entirely. "Yeah," she mumbled out softly, "...I know."
He lifted his head up in her direction. Her face was blank and smoothed out, but her eyes... They spoke in a language Garfield didn't understand. It could have been a flash of anger, sadness, or tiredness for all he knew. But uncertain though he was, he recognized a practiced brave face when he saw one.
Catching him staring at her with a livelier shade to his wide green his eyes, as if he found a kindred spirit, Rachel instantly grew uncomfortable and willed herself into neutral and evenhanded state of mind. There was an awkward type of honesty in his eyes and voice. It was shaky, unsure, genuine, and all too vulnerable and easy to get pulled into. And that sent alarm bells ringing in her head.
"But, truth be told," she cleared her throat, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, "I literally don't know how to mock a person who managed to get himself locked up in a bathroom."
It took him a few moments to digest what she said. And the next thing he knew, he was laughing. "Hahaha, yeah, I guess that part speaks for itself."
She gave a brief nod, more than eager to keep this conversation steering elsewhere, "Well in any case, here's what I'm thinking: once your bus reaches its final destination, the staff there will probably go through your stuff and try to reach you, which we know they can't-"
He glanced at her and flushed in embarrassment (not that she could tell).
"And if noone claims it as their own-"
A panicked look crossed his face. Did people really do that? He hoped they didn't.
"-they'll most likely move it to their 'Lost and Found'. So," Rachel loudly exhaled through her nose, already regretting complying with that little bubble of empathy she swore she would shoot later. Garfield held his breath, waiting for her to continue. The pale woman sighed and rubber the bridge of her nose, " So, here's what I'm thinking... IF, by chance, the place you were heading to is within my reach, I can drop you off there to get your stuff and you can call your friend."
He blinked at her, not sure if he had understood her correctly. Not picking up on his reaction, she continued, "As it happens I'm on a time limit here, so anything beyond my final stop is out of the question."
...
"Really?"
She threw a quick glance in his direction, his expression one of general surprise."If it not too far out of my reach, yes. "
"You'd do that?!" he smiled and leaned towards her enthusiastically (way too enthusiastically) and into her personal space.
"Yeah, well," she said hoping he'd sit back down so she wouldn't have to indulge the need to push his face out of hers, "It's not like you have a lot of options, now do you? Unless you'd like to continue walking, that is."
"No! Ha, no-! Hahaha all good here!" he sat back, a wide silly grin stretching across his face. "I'll go as far as you're willing to take me!"
She nodded, "So where were you headed?"
"Jump City," he said proudly.
She turned to him and he stopped grinning, momentarily anxious. "Is that okay? I mean, is it on your way?"
Rachel slightly shook her head in disbelief before relieving him of his worry. "You're one lucky man Garfield Logan..."
His smile was instant. "Oh, thank God! That's so awesome!" He threw himself back against the seat in relief mid-sentence and immediately regretted his decision when pain flared against entire back.
"Careful!" she snapped at him as he doubled over with a scream.
"Grrrghhh! Ow, ow, shit-!" he wheezed and fought to breathe and talk at the same time. "S-Sorry- Forgot about it, arghh...- Shiiiit...-"
Rachel looked up to the heavens, shaking her head and releasing a long, long sigh. Just her luck.
"But seriously," the blond said weakly once he regained his breath, looking up at her, "Thank you." A gentle smile on his face. "You're a life savior. Like literally. I can't tell you how grateful I am. You're probably going out of your way here-"
"You have no idea..." She muttered under her breath while he just kept talking away.
"I really don't know how to thank you. I mean I don't know if I can repay you in any possible way, what you did. You really-" And in that moment the whole vehicle suddenly started shaking, making them both freeze in alarm. The engine made a loud rumbling noise, before the whole thing suddenly stopped working all together.
"No, no, no, no-!" Rachel turned the key repeatedly, trying to get the truck to start up again. "Fuck no! Come on! Just a bit more," she pleaded. The engine however just made a weird coughing sound before it went silent. Falling back against her seat, Rachel rubbed her forehead and huffed.
"What- What just happened?" Garfield asked, raising his head and glancing around him like a meerkat on guard duty.
The dark haired woman took a deep calming breath that didn't really help at all and growled out, "You might wanna hold off that 'thank you' for a while." Rachel unbuckled her seat-belt, her jaw tightening as she opened the door and stepped out.
"Oh, hey, where are you going?" he asked, slightly worried.
"Out," she said, slamming the door closed. The blond followed her with his eyes, watching curiously as she stalked over to the back of the truck and placed her hands on the edge of the trunk. Realization sinking in, he quickly unbuckled his own seat-belt. "Wait!" He yelled as he got out of the vehicle and jogged after her. "Let me help."
She gave him a doubtful look, before eyeing the truck and sighing. "You feel well enough?"
"Well, yeah," he shrugged, reasoning with himself that the lightheadedness he felt would pass and tried not to let her unconvinced expression sway or bother him. "Besides, there's no sun now, I can do this much."
She shook her head gently, and after a moment of weighting her options she gave a slight nod. "Okay, fine. Grab the other side."
He did so, taking a stance placing his hands on the truck's end.
"Ready?" Rachel asked him, and he responded with a nod. "And push!"
And so they did. The tires made a low scratching noise against the dusty road as they were forced into motion. Shortly after, the whole task became much easier when the vehicle gained momentum. Garfield would have lied if he said that he didn't feel uncomfortable. His skin felt tight and dry. And that honestly hurt a bit when he pushed his muscles into action. Still, he decided he wouldn't complain. He had no right to. Not when someone was trying so hard to help him when he had previously given up on himself. He had to do at least this much.
Ignoring the stings of his burnt skin Garfield continued to push alongside Rachel who was, despite her small stature, giving it her all. He had to hand it to this girl. She knew how to take the initiative. He guessed that's why he owned her big time.
His admiration however was cut short when he felt something hit the top of his head. Puzzled he looked up at the moody sky... and it suddenly started pouring.
… unbelievable.
"OH, COME ON!"
Ta-da! Love it? Hate it? You know where to tell me!
xMF