Sara
I can feel her nails digging into my thigh but it's the last of my worries. Her hand is grasping my neck, her thumb pushing into my larynx; I cough, but it only causes her grip to tighten. I've forgotten her question.
"Answer me!" she demands. My vision begins to blur as I shut my eyes, I struggle, using the last of my breath.
"As you wish," I surrender.
She releases me, "good."
My throat feels raspy and worn, throbbing slightly beneath my palm as I massage it. She gathers her things, turning to asses me one last time.
"I'll be here in the morning to pick you up," she says before walking out the door.
I make my way to the bathroom to inspect the damage in my thigh. There are only a few drops of blood there, along the marks of her fingernails. I check my face for any bruises and, of course, find none. She's gotten better at this. There's only a slight puffiness in the right corner of my bottom lip, where she struck me with the back of her hand.
I got off easy.
She had me cornered as soon as she burst through the door. The wall felt cold and foreign against my skin as the thin hospital gown untied slightly from the back. Her breath was heavy with scent of wine, her irises dilated, her hand grasping for my hair, yanking it back as she spat out her disgust. She didn't want to hear of another incident of the like, she said. I was not to approach my twin if I was not under her watchful eye. The back of her hand struck me like cold steel on burning flesh. Once, twice, and then she peeled off the gown.
She glanced down at my frail trellis; the scar from the lung transplant making its way as a half-moon, hugging close to my breast, outlining its edge.
"It's disgusting," she snarled, "every time I look at you now…every time I touch you," her hand reached out, fingers grazing the scar gently, "I'll think of her."
She looked so sad and miserable, the bags under her eyes hung like heavy caskets, her eyes alive with a hint of red and the tears she refused to shed. I hadn't seen her so weak in ages. She met my gaze and must've seen through my thoughts because soon that moment of weakness was gone, replaced with an iron curtain that hung between her heart and mine.
"You disgust me!" She spat, hand around my throat, her fingers shoving their way inside of me. I winced, never sheading a tear. I had learned it was best not to prompt her, lead her on, when she was like this.
"This will not happen again, do you hear?" Her hot breath covered my face, her thumb pressing harder into my larynx as she pounded her fingers into me. "You will not kiss her, touch her, or be near her again! Do you hear me?" She pulled out me suddenly, her fingers digging into my inner thigh, her thumb pressing harder as I cough. "Answer me!"
I sigh at the memory, making my way back to my bed in a fresh gown. It's quiet as the breeze blows in through the opened window of my new room. She made me request I be moved out of Tegan's on the same day of the photo incident, regardless of the fact that the doctor had declared I'd be released in 3 more days. Tomorrow is my last day of stay and I am already filled with dread by the prospect of returning to the confines of our apartment. Here, at the very least, she could only punish me once a day during her short visits.
The door opens and I am greeted by our doctor's ever tired smile, "hello there, miss Quin," he says, polite as ever.
"Hey," I smile back.
He takes a glance around the room, the sterile white walls undisturbed by any means of decoration, the bedside cabinet holding nothing but a copy of The Madness Vase.
"Well this is depressing," he says, turning to me, "at least Tegan's room has a corner filled with an abundance of flowers and balloons; do your fans have such strong preferences?" he smirks, teasingly.
I chuckle and shake my head, "I requested all the gifts be kept in her room; she needs them more than me."
"Does she?" He says, though it doesn't sound like a question. He flips through the pages of his clipboard as he continues, "so, you will be leaving us tomorrow, Sara...which means I need to have a word with you, as a final revision, if you will."
I nod, "tomorrow, correct?"
"Typically that is the case, yes," he sits at the foot of my bed "but I've decided to make an exception." I frown in confusion as he continues, "Sara, this is completely off the record; there will be no evidence of this conversation unless you choose to take a course of action."
"I don't understand," I say.
"Sara, is there anything you'd like to tell me? Any problematic situation with anyone? Stacy, perhaps?"
My heart's pounding in my ears.
"No," my eyes meet his and I see a sign of recognition in his eyes.
"Sara, I can-"
"No," I repeat, "there's nothing, doctor. Right now, everything is as it needs to be."
He sighs, hanging his head, eyes on his clipboard.
"Very well," he says and makes his way out without another glance.
It's evening now and I'm sitting at the table facing the window, the trees now still, the breeze from earlier today having died down. My head aches as I sort through the memories of the past few days; Tegan waking, the photo incident, Stacy's punishments. Everything's happened so quickly. Thankfully so, when it comes to certain matters. It didn't take long for Calvin to buy off the paparazzi. He was a young lad, from what Nick told us, and obviously inexperienced. What kind of idiot reveals their identity during blackmail? But at the very least, due to his inexperience (or stupidity, if you ask me), he didn't ask for much. Not that Nick would give us a number, but he seemed pretty confident.
I hear the door open, startling me from my thoughts, but I don't turn. Other than Tegan, Alex is the only person around at this time of day.
"Hey," I say, my eyes fixed on the blue and purple hue dressing the sky, the sunset painting the clouds like a bruise.
"Hi," I hear the mattress give beneath her weight.
"How is she?" My voice is barely audible, as if the walls had ears, as if Stacy were standing just outside the door.
"How do you think?" Her voice is tinged with just an ounce of bitterness. "I'm sorry," she sighs, and I can tell that she is, "she's…wounded."
I nod as I close my eyes, the image of the bruised sunset still branded behind my eyelids.
"Don't you dare leave her without saying goodbye, Sara."
"Perhaps that would be best," I say, opening my eyes, turning to face her. "What good will it be? It'd be like twisting the knife," I say.
"She needs to hear it, Sar, she needs an answer. Something concrete, something she can depend on, not your red and green lights; she needs some closure."
"She needs you," my voice cracks, "she needs you to be there; as long as she has you she'll be fine, Alex."
Her face contorts, the veins on her neck straining; she's trying to hold it together.
"Do you have any idea what it's like, Sara? Do you know what it's like waking up every morning and looking into the eyes of the person you love knowing that they don't love you? You don't know what that's like Sar, you have no idea. Tegan has always loved, it's all she's ever known; you've never had to think what it'd be like to not have her love." Her eyes glisten and I see her hands grasping unto the bed spread, clutching into fists, "you're asking me to live with that every single day. And don't think for a second that I would ever consider leaving Tegan to bear through this alone but don't you ever take my presence for granted. I am not here to facilitate you breaking her heart, Sara; do not console yourself with the thought that 'at least she has her'," her gaze drops and a tear finally spills, running like a gentle stream down her cheek, "because next to you, what she feels for me, is nothing but a minuscule fraction of affection."
My eyes drift to the floor, the shame of the truth leaving a bitter trail down my throat. I get up slowly and walk over to the bed, sitting beside her. I take her hand, still clutched tightly and hold it against my chest, "you're right, Alex."
She chuckles, but the sadness in her eyes remain, "I know."
"I'm sorry if I've become dependent on your presence in her life; I'm sorry that every night before I go to bed I tell myself that this is what is best. That now Tegan can have a normal life; get married, hold someone's hand while walking down the street, start a family…I'm sorry I take your love for her to be something of a consolation," I sigh and she turns to me then, "but right now, I need something to hold on to."
She nods and I feel her grasp tighten for moment. Approval.
"You've become the pillar that holds us both together," I confess.
"Lucky girl, I am," she laughs and I smile. "Come here," she says, wrapping her arms around me in a gentle squeeze. "Please don't leave her without saying goodbye, Sar; there's cracks you make in her that I can't always heal."
Tegan
"Hey lovely," Alex says, walking into the room.
I look up from my notebook and try my best to give her a smile, "Hey there."
"Still writing I see," she says, sitting at the edge of the bed, "how are those ribs?"
"Bitching, as usual," I chuckle and regret it immediately. "Fuck" I breathe, "I really hate this."
She chuckles, "hopefully this will teach you when to stop being a clown."
I grin, "Never."
"I can ask for more Oxy if you like," she says as she rubs my shoulder.
"No, it's fine; I already got away with a whole week of not feeling anything."
She shakes her head, "alright then. Are you hungry?"
"No, I'm fine. How was dinner for you?"
She sighs, "Tegan…you need to eat."
"I'm not hungry," I drop my gaze back to my notebook, trying to dance my way around this conversation. "So, how was it?"
"It was hospital cafeteria food so I can't say it was great, exactly. Tegan, stop avoiding it, you need to eat."
"I said I'm not-"
"It's not going to fix anything; it's not going to get her back. It's going to worry her, but it's not going to change things."
I shut my eyes, knowing she's right; Sara's wariness for my health won't be sufficient cause for her to come back to me. She proved that days ago.
"Okay, but I'm not hungry right now." I hear her sigh and the bed creaks as she stands.
"Alright then," she says.
Come on, Tegan, for her.
"Soup," I say, opening my eyes.
"What?" She looks up, surprised.
"I'll have some soup," a smile creeps unto the corner of her lips, "but only on one condition."
She frowns, "I don't think I'll like this."
I smile, "oh, it's not so bad, I just want you to sing for me."
She chuckles and shakes her head, "I don't know Teegster, sounds like a high price to me."
"Well, if you really want me to get better…"
"You play dirty," she smiles, before making her way across the room, picking up the guitar I had requested she bring over earlier today.
"Absolutely," I grin.
"Alright then," she removes the guitar from the bag and makes her way back to the bed. "But first I'll have to order that soup."
"Oh, no, you see, I'll agree to eat on a regular basis only if you sing for me as often as I like."
She laughed, "fine, but only while you eat."
"Fine," I pouted.
Soon, I find myself facing a hot bowl of soup and for the first time in two days, my stomach growls. I notice the nurse looks relieved as she walks out the room, "bet she's going to tell the doctor," I say.
"Bet he'll be happy to hear," she shrugs, "so, which song then?"
I pick up my spoon and sip the warm broth, "'We're All Thieves', I say.
"Jesus, care to pick a harder one next time?" She says, tuning my guitar.
"Oh, don't worry, I have a full set list," I smile.
"Haha, funny," she strums the first few chords slowly before looking up and sticking her tongue out, "fine, but I'm singing it in my range."
I shrug, "very well then."
She begins to pick the notes, her fingers swiftly making their way from one string to the next. Soon her rich and full voice fills the room, the gentle highs running shivers down my spine, her lows filling my chest with warmth. She opens her eyes and smiles, nodding to my now abandoned plate. I comply, sipping my soup, but never looking away.
Everything you intended to say; don't go back on your words. You always said you'd tell me first…
Sometimes I really wish I could love you.
I long to find a cure for the feeling I find in these chords. I smile as it burns.
Love you as much as you deserve me to. As much as I deserve to love someone I can be with in peace, someone who won't leave me, someone who would be with me through everything…
I don't know what happened that afternoon. One moment she loved me and the next she had decided it was all a mistake. I'm always a mistake.
Sara.
She was gone the next morning, her empty bed freshly made, her belonging nowhere in sight. Alex had stepped out for some coffee and by the time she returned she had found me in tears, my hands fumbling with the tubes and wires, mumbling "I have to see her," over and over.
It didn't take long for the anxiety to die town; all I had to do was remember that I was a mistake. All I had to do was remember that she had already chosen someone else. All I had to do was remember…
I look at Alex as she sings; her features soft, her eyes bright. She lights up every time she looks at me. I try to do the same for her. There is a shame that drips from the back of my throat though, every time she smiles at me, every time she caresses me. It's the shame of knowing she deserves to find someone better than me, someone who loves her. To be honest, I'm terrified of the day that she does and that sickens me.
Smoke's filled the air and I'm struggling to breathe. Let them be calm, so I finally can sleep.
The last note rings out and I smile, clapping and faking crowd cheers.
"Shush you, before the nurse kicks us out," she chuckles.
"You really have a wonderful voice," I say and feel my heart flutter when the gentlest blush spreads on her cheeks. "You're blushing, it's adorable!"
"Piss off Tegan!" She says, but her grin betrays her, "Anyways, why that song exactly?"
I look down at my now empty bowl and try to reach out to place it on the bedside table but not before she's taken it from me and set it down herself.
"Hey, I don't want you getting hurt."
I reach out for her hand, caressing it softly with my thumb. "Because…" I start, pulling her hand towards me, pressing my lips to her knuckles before kissing them.
"We're all thieves here, Alex," I say, holding her soft gaze, "all of us but you."
Her eyes never change and it's almost as if I hadn't said anything she did not yet know. Because truly, how could she not? How could she not know that in the midst of all this havoc she was the one who was giving the most and receiving nothing in return? Truly, nothing I can ever give her will amount to what she deserves. What she needs, I can never give.
She leans in, her warm breath caressing my cheek, filling my lung with the scent of coffee and tinge that was all her own, one I had never been able to name.
"You're right Tegan," she murmurs, "I'm not, I'm a treasure hunter."
A sad smile makes its way across my lips, "you're searching in barren lands."
She shakes her head, taking her seat on the bed again, "don't you see, Teegs?" She strums the guitar softly, her eyes on the fret board, her fingers gently adjusting and readjusting in different positions as if to remember their way across the board.
"See what?" My eyes are fixed on her fingers, now alternating as she picks away at familiar melody. She begins to hum and I see her smile; she's teasing me.
"That 'I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.'" She says and beginning to strum away.
I laugh, pressing against my side at the pain. She continues to play through the chorus, singing with a smile on her face, and I swear I had never long to love her as much as I do now.
It's early morning and I'm sipping my coffee while watching Alex strumming her way through When I get Up. I swear, this girl could put me out of business. The breeze blows in through the window causing the balloons in the corner of the room to scramble around, their strings tangling with the flowers beneath them. The gifts have been pilling; postcards and plushies arriving every day; Ted's sorted through them all, bringing only those sent by our friends and family.
There's a knock on the door and Alex responds, "it's open."
The door opens and I see Sara, standing by the threshold with Stacy.
"Hi," she says, holding on to the doorknob, "can we come in?"
Alex looks at me and I nod, "sure."
"Want to get some coffee Stacy?" Says Alex, putting down my guitar.
Stacy looks at Sara before nodding and soon we're alone.
She walks over to the chair next to my bed and sits, "no longer on the tank, eh?"
I shrug, "I want to make the effort; we only keep it around in case of anything."
She nods, looking at her hands, "sounds great."
"Why are you here?" I ask.
She looks up, her eyes scanning my features as if for the first time, "you don't look so good."
I nod, "I have this sickness, you see, it's called loving you."
She sighs, "Tegan, after what happened that might not be the best thing to be saying out loud."
I sigh, she's right.
"What are you here for?"
"I'm being discharged today."
"I know."
"I just…came to say goodbye and that-that I hope you feel better."
I meet her eyes, "thank you."
She nods, "sure." Her cell rings, "I have to go," she says, reaching for her pocket to retrieve her phone. "On my way," she says and hangs up. "Take care, Tegan."
I nod and soon she's out the door.
I sigh, "You're worse than nicotine."
Sara
The car ride to our apartment is silent for the most part, Stacy only occasionally pointing out how inconvenient it is that the doctor wouldn't clear me to board an airplane. He had said my lung wasn't ready for that kind of strenuous effort and it'd take a few more weeks before he could approve my departure back to New York. Soon, we arrive at our place, making our way to our room in silence.
I spend the rest of the morning reorganizing my clothes and making brunch while Stacy makes calls to her family, telling them we're well and that I was finally discharged. It's not until later in the afternoon when the phone rings with Nick on the line.
"Sara? Is your T.V. on?" He sounds exasperated, his breath heavy, as if he had run a marathon.
"Uh, no, it's not. Nick, is everything alright?"
"No, fucking Christ, nothing's alright. Turn your T.V. on!"
"Alright, alright," I fumble around searching for the remote, "what channel?"
"It doesn't fucking matter; it's everywhere!"
And then it hits me. There's only one thing he could be referring to.
I give up my search and walk over to the T.V., my thumb trembling as I reach out to press the ON button.
Sure enough, there it is. Plastered on the top left corner of the screen is a photograph of me and Tegan. Kissing. The hosts are talking away, their faces repulsed, cracking jokes at our expense that the static in my head won't allow me to hear.
"Sara? Sara, are you there?" I can hear Nick calling from the other end but I'm speechless, my voice ripped away by the horror that fills me.
"Sara, listen to me: do not go outside. Do not put a foot out that door. I'm coming over there, Calvin is making a few calls and we're getting everything set as we speak. There's a chance we'll have some time to get organized since it might take a while for the court case to start but don't you worry-"
"Court case?" I ask.
"Of course, Sara. Listen, I know you're confused right now and I know this isn't the best way to break this news to you but I'd rather you hear it from me."
"What about Tegan?" I ask.
"I had Ted call Alex a few minutes ago, they know."
"Okay," I say, feeling my chest tighten, "okay…listen, I have to go now," I mumble. I hang up and Nick's voice is cut off.
"Sara, what's going on?" Stacy's voice drifts from the living room.
"Turn the T.V. on" I respond as I turn off the one in our room.
I hear the voices continue on the other room, their outraged voices and mocking laughter find its way to me. I sit at the edge of the bed, my eyes focused on the black screen facing me, a few minutes later I hear the T.V. turn off.
"Sara," she says and I close my eyes tightly. Please punish me, please. Make me feel anything but this empty, enfolding, numbness; anything.
"Yes?"
"Come here."
I obey, making my way to the living room.
"Yes?"
She gets up from the couch and faces me, "they mentioned a court case."
I nod.
"Alright then," she closes in on me, her hand caressing my cheek, "then let's get this wedding ready."
"What?"
"Yeah, I'm not going to wait for all of this to be over and I refuse to let people think my gorgeous fiancée would ever betray me, am I right?" Her hand makes its way to the back of my neck, never tightening, but merely holding me in place.
"Right," I respond.
