Disclaimer: I own nothing.
AN: Sorry it took so long. I really wanted this chapter to be perfect but it never felt right so I kept rewriting it. Still not too happy with it but I felt everyone had been waiting long enough.
~Closer To The Edge~
Chapter 7
"Love doesn't hide. It stays and fights. It goes the distance, that's why love is so strong. So it can carry you all the way home." -Gilbert Parker
3rd Person.
"I need off this bus right now." Damon says loudly, bending down to throw on Ric's flip flops.
"Yes, sir." The elderly driver replies, slowing the bus to a crawl and pulling to the side of the road.
"Damon, what are you doing?" Alaric asks, trying to keep the twins asleep.
"I have to get home." Damon says hurriedly, standing and shoving his cell and wallet into the pockets of his jeans.
"No, you don't. You need to finish this season before the coach gets fed up and kicks you out for good." Ric says angrily, grabbing hold of Damon's wrist.
"She's awake Ric. She's awake." He says, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I have to go." He adds.
"Go. Me and the boys will catch a flight home in the morning. I'll take care of them, Damon, just get home to your wife." Alaric says, giving his wrist a squeeze before releasing it.
"Thanks Ric." Damon calls, running to the door of the bus. "Love you, man." He calls.
"Be careful." Ric yells after him as he disappears from sight. "Your daddy is one crazy son of a bitch." Ric sighs, closing his eyes.
DPOV.
"To the nearest airport please." I say, handing the cab driver a fifty.
"I don't have change..." He starts. Damon shakes his head.
"Keep it. Just drive." He tells him.
"Yes sir."
"One ticket to Richmond, Virginia." I tell the attendant.
"Will that be coach, sir?" She says, eying my rubber flip flops, faded jeans, smelly Yankee jersey, and unwashed hair. I give her a death glare and shake my head.
"First class, ASAP." I say quickly, pulling out my wallet and placing the largest bill I have onto the counter. Her eyes go wide.
"Yes, sir. Right away, sir." She says, typing something onto the computer in front of her.
"Thank you." I sigh.
"Third row on the right."
"Thanks." I say, dropping into the seat with a sigh.
In three hours we'll be together again, love.
EPOV.
"Feels weird, doesn't it?"
"Excuse me?" I say, looking up to see a dark haired man -more like a boy- not much taller than me, walk into my room with a tray of junk food and coffee.
"Being awake again. It must've been strange. Was it like you were dreaming the whole time? Or just a really long sleep? Or does it feel like no time has passed?" He says quickly, sitting the tray on my lap and sitting down in the chair next to me.
"I guess it feels like no time has passed. Like I just took a nap." I tell him, shrugging. "Thanks for the coffee and stuff." I tell him, sipping the hot brown liquid.
"No problem. I know it's not the best, but it's they have. At least it's strong." He says, smiling weakly. I notice he uses the right side of his mouth to talk and not the left.
"Strong it most definitely is." I say, coughing. "I'm Elena." I tell him, smiling.
"Gerard." He says, returning the smile and shaking my hand.
"So are you visiting?" I ask, looking at his hooded, one piece skeleton pajamas that match his black hair.
"No. I'm a patient here actually." He sighs, a look of sadness taking over his childlike features.
"Oh...me too." I say stupidly.
"Yea, I know." He laughs. His laugh is more like a loud giggle, but a cute one.
I spend the next three hours talking to Gerard, who I learn is gay, and a brilliant 17 year old artist that loves comics, music, and his older brother. He has a fatal disease that effects your brain called Mitochondrial Encephalopathy, and his parents admitted him permanently when they found out.
He's slightly shy, but get him talking about comics or music and he never shuts up. Even the occasional nurse stops to listen to him talk, entranced by his dark hair that hangs above his shoulders and his hazel eyes. I doubt they actually heard a word he said.
He distracts me from depressing thoughts of my babies and Damon.
We become fast friends.
"So when do I get my own pair of those?" I ask, pulling his white hood down over his eyes playfully. We're sitting indian style with our knees touching on the white bed.
"When you beg the doctors and tell them that you'll die if you don't have them." He replies, smiling and pushing the hood back so he can see.
"Ah so that's how you work? Guilt trips. Nice." I tell him, laughing. It feels good to laugh, like I haven't done it in ages.
"My diabolical master plans are none of your business. Unless..." He says, tapping his chin like he's in deep thought.
"Unless what?" I ask.
"...You become my partner in crime." He finishes, flashing a grin of small, crooked, white teeth.
"I'd love to, but I already have a partner in crime. Sorry." I tell him, my mind returning to thoughts of Damon.
"Hmm so you're married?" He asks, reaching down to play with the ring on my left hand.
"Happily, and apparently I have two sons that I have yet to meet." I tell him.
"What are their names?" He asks, voice going quiet.
"My husband is Damon -I love him to death- and the nurse said he named my sons..." I sigh.
"Hmm, that bad huh?" He asks.
"You have no idea." I murmur. "Samuel Varvatos and Joel Armani." I tell him, playing with a loose thread in the blanket. He falls onto his back, laughing hysterically.
"Hey! It's so not funny." I say loudly, struggling to hold back my own laughter. I hit his knee and shake my head.
"It is too and you know it." He says, sitting up and clutching his chest. "I'm guessing he likes designer clothes?" He says, smiling.
"Again, you have no idea." I say, smiling at the thought of Damon's walk-in closet.
"Well I can't wait to meet 'em." He says, intertwining each of his hands with my own.
"You won't have to wait that long." A voice says from the doorway. I don't need to look up to know who it belongs to.
"Damon."
AN: How did everyone feel about Gerard? Unnecessary? Confusing? Annoying? Lovable? :P
