Chapter warnings: strong cursing (for me, anyway, lol).
THE EASTERN SEABOARD, UNITED STATES
Three days after Ammon came to The Hole to give Beth medicine
"Hello!" Ammon grinned as Beth opened the door after he used their coded knock for entry.
Beth's whole face lit up. "Ammon! Hello!" She stepped back to allow him in. "I'm so grateful for everything you've done. How are you?"
"It is I who should be asking you how you are doing." His light brown eyes took in her healthy glow and her flushed cheeks with satisfaction.
"I'm much better, thanks to you." She shut the door behind him, locking it, and crossed the room to the sink to wash her hands. "Can I get you anything to drink?"
"Sure."
Ammon looked around the garage. He hadn't noticed much about it the first time. It was a large space, mostly open, with concrete floors and a high industrial ceiling. A small table near the free-standing sink that Beth was washing her hands in was surrounded by three different kinds of chairs; a black office chair, a dark brown metal folding chair, and a wooden kitchen chair with arms and a pile of pillows stacked on its seat; presumably, that was Tootie's seat. An old turquoise blue mason jar was filled with fake sunflowers and sat at the centre of the table. Several wooden and plastic crates were piled up side by side and on top of each other near the sink, climbing so high that they had to be fastened to the wall somehow to keep them from tumbling over. All sorts of odds and ends filled the shelves, including some food, blankets, clothes, and a surprisingly large collection of books.
Beth noticed Ammon taking an interest in their storage space and smiled at him, approaching her beloved bookshelf. "When we had to leave our home behind, Sam filled her backpack with cans of food and toothbrushes and everything practical she could carry." Beth chuckled. "I filled mine with books. Sam was furious when she found out. She made me go back with her to get more essential items. I slipped in a few more books while we were going through our house when she wasn't looking," she added with a grin.
Ammon laughed with her, though he had never really read any books just for fun. Any books that he had had to crack open were for school and a duty, not a joy. "You love to read, then?"
"Yes." Beth nodded. "I've worn these poor books out, I've read them so many times. But I love them. I read to Tootie a lot. He isn't old enough to grasp a lot of the story, especially since his world is so small…but, he loves it." She turned away from the shelves and faced him. "Do you like to read?"
Ammon shook his head. "No, I never did. I was not an eager student by any stretch of the imagination growing up. Reading something for class was always a chore and I didn't bother with it in my spare time." He paused, then asked, "What's your favourite?"
"Oh, definitely Little Women." At Ammon's blank expression, Beth laughed. "The pages are falling out, I've read it so many times. I adore Marmee and Jo and Teddy and Mr. Bhaer and…well, all of the characters, really. Toot's name is actually Teddy－well, Theodore, but Teddy for short," Beth revealed, nodding at the little boy, who was asleep in the corner, cuddled up with an old, raggedy teddy bear. "He had the worst gas when he was a baby." Beth laughed and Ammon grinned, watching the little guy sleep with warm eyes. "I can laugh about it now, but at the time, it actually scared me. It was so bad." She groaned. "Sam used to call him Stinky. Awful! Somehow we landed on Tootie and it's stuck. Anyway," Beth shrugged, returning to the previous conversation, "Sam thinks I'm wasting my time when I'm wrapped up with a good book." She smiled. "It's helped me a lot, though."
"Maybe I should pick up a book now and then." Ammon grinned at her, knowing that his mother would have been shocked to have heard him say such a thing.
"Maybe I'll convert you." Beth laughed.
"Maybe," Ammon allowed.
The curly-headed little one turned over on his cot, blinking slowly and trying to wake up. "Bethy?" Tootie's voice was a little garbled, because he was still half asleep.
Beth glanced at Ammon and then approached Tootie, who was now sitting up, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, sleepyhead! Did you have a nice nap?"
Tootie stretched again and then clambered out of his blankets, his hair sticking up everywhere. Beth chuckled at him, and Ammon found his feet taking him closer to the sleeping area.
Tootie began clapping excitedly when he noticed Ammon, then ran up to him, his arms outstretched. "Up, up high!"
Ammon laughed and reached down to pick him up, then tossed him gently in the air. The little guy squealed and begged him to do it again. Ammon obliged, tossing him up a few times, then swung Tootie around to sit on his shoulders. Ammon asked Beth, "It's only been three days, are you sure that you're feeling all right? Do you want to sit down?"
Smiling, Beth reached up to tickle Tootie's toes, making him giggle and pound his fists on the top of Ammon's head. Beth laughed, then answered his question. "I promise, I feel much better. But I have been resting," she hastened to add. "I took a nap with Toot and woke up right before you got here."
Ammon held onto Toot with one hand and dug in his pocket with the other. "I brought some tea bags. Would you like a cup? It will help speed your recovery."
"Sure." Beth filled two cups with water and placed them in the microwave.
"Where's Sam?" Ammon asked, curious.
"She's meeting with Ricky today. She usually does on Thursdays."
"Who's Ricky?" Ammon paused, then added, "That's rude of me. You don't have to tell me."
"Oh, no, it's okay. Ricky Mendoza; he's a member of The Cardinals."
Ammon digested that bit of information in silence. Rick the sick. Ricky didn't come into The Hive very often, but whenever he did, he was usually sporting a black eye or worse. Everyone was skinny, but this kid was tiny. It was a bit of a well-known joke for some of the losers around to beat up on him. It had been awhile since Ammon had seen him and he was surprised that he was still out there.
The microwave dinged. While Beth moved to retrieve their cups of hot water, Ammon sat down and settled Tootie on his lap. Beth set a cup in front of him and he thanked her. He dipped a teabag in the water with a spoon for several moments, bobbing the bag up and down, manoeuvring Tootie so that he couldn't reach the hot cup. His face was set in a frown.
Beth sat across from them and while her tea steeped, she watched the play of emotions across Ammon's face. He was definitely troubled by something.
"Sam and Ricky used to run track together." Beth paused as Ammon's direct gaze took her breath away for a moment. She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously and fiddled with her spoon. "He's a good guy. I know that Sam wishes he would stay here with us rather than trying to make it out there, pretty much on his own, with The Cardinals. But, he's refused every time she asked." Beth sighed. "I know that Sam can seem kind of cold sometimes, but she wasn't always like that. Even here, sometimes, she turns her emotions off and I can't tell…." Beth shook her head. "But, it doesn't happen very often." She paused thoughtfully. "If she cares about someone, she'll do anything within her power to protect them."
Ammon nodded thoughtfully and took a sip of the slightly-steaming lemon ginger tea. Changing the subject, he asked, "So, what is this Little Women about?"
A month later
Lightning crashed in the distance. Ammon lowered the hood of his jacket and knocked twice on the metal door of the building with a fading Al's Auto Repair sign out front. It was quiet on the streets; he was the only idiot out in this weather. He was about to knock again when the heavy door swung open, presenting his favourite brunette. Sam's scowl was even more pronounced than usual.
Ammon grinned, ignoring the ready blade in her hand. He nodded. "Good evening, Dark One."
Sam shut the door behind her, stowing her blade up her sleeve, and crossed her arms. "Ammon."
Ammon kept his face as neutral as possible and waited. When she didn't say anything else, only glaring at him for a few minutes, Ammon sighed. He slipped off the backpack he had filled with clothes and a few books that he had managed to find and held it out, dangling it on one finger. "I brought presents."
She eyed the bag for a moment and then shook her head. "Ammon. Listen. We need to talk."
"Sam—"
"This can't go on."
Ammon's smile faded, though he tried to keep his tone light. "Calm down, Charlie Brown, I only—"
"Don't mess with me, Ammon. I'm serious."
"Seriously overreacting about something. What's got your panties in a twist?
Sam eyed him with cautious eyes and ignored the rain dripping through her hair and down her neck. "I don't want Beth to get hurt."
Thunder rolled, closer this time, and Ammon fought down his rising temper. "You don't want to see Beth get hurt." He paused, taking several deep breaths. "Why is it, I wonder, that you look at me and think that I am going to hurt her?"
"Beth," Sam paused, "she doesn't see people as they really are—"
Ammon's fist clenched around the strap of the backpack. His voice was calm, but inside, he was starting to boil. "And how am I, really?"
Sam huffed. "Come off it, Ammon. Don't forget that I know you. I may have never commented on your extracurricular activities before, but I know your reputation." She paused. "Beth isn't someone you can just use for your own amusement and then discard."
The sinking, cold feeling in his stomach warred with the red encroaching upon his vision. Ammon took a step back. "I am not sure what you are imagining, but there is only friendship between us."
Sam shook her head sadly. Beth was going to kill her, but this couldn't go on. "I'm not a fool. You want much more. I'm not blind, you know. And, Beth is…she's not someone that you can just play house with, Ammon. If she falls for you, she's only going to end up completely shattered. It would only be a matter of time."
The unfairness of her words battled against his better judgement and he struggled to keep his temper. "Sam." Ammon couldn't catch his breath. The dread that filled him was overwhelming. "Do not do this. Please. We are just friends. She is too young and much too good for me. I know that. And," he glared, fuming, "I have never taken advantage of anyone. They don't expect anything from me except for an occasional—" He gritted his teeth and changed his tone. "It doesn't matter. Beth is different."
Sam kept her stance firm and reached back for the doorknob. "She's better off without you. I mean it, don't come back."
She slipped through the door and locked it behind her.
Ammon stared at the dull metal for several minutes, too wrapped up in thoughts of Beth and Toot to notice the rain that was pouring down, soaking him through.
A few days later
Ammon forced a smile when his door opened quietly and Sam stood in the doorway, the first time he'd seen her since she'd told him to back off. Her face was as impassive as he'd ever seen it and he repressed a sigh. He was playing along for now, but he was quickly losing patience.
"Good morning."
No answer.
Sam emptied her bag and stood waiting, tight-lipped and tense.
"How is everyone?" Ammon tried again, gritting his teeth when she refused to answer. "Okay," he muttered around clenched teeth and headed to his storage room, trying not to lose his cool. Sam was being ridiculous. He grabbed a few cans of soup and a Hershey's Kiss from his shelves and then shut the door behind him with a little more force than necessary. "Here you go." He dropped everything on the counter.
Sam gathered the cans up, not saying anything, but left the candy on the counter. When she turned to go, Ammon couldn't stop the words that blurted out of his mouth, "Have they asked about me?"
Sam paused on her way to the door, but didn't reply or turn around. When she was gone, Ammon slumped against the edge of the counter. His fingers pressed hard against his eyes as he groaned.
Two weeks later
No matter how hard he tried, Ammon couldn't sleep worth a damn. Sam's crazy forced exile was killing him. He had begged and cussed and shouted, but Sam remained quiet and refused to speak to him.
Suddenly he was a pariah. It was ridiculous. He couldn't take it any longer.
The bell rang as his door opened and Ammon stopped pacing in the storage room and headed towards the front with a singular purpose. He was going to tell Sam to go to hell and then march his ass across town and beg Beth to open the door.
It wasn't Sam. Ammon paused in his tracks. Ricky, the kid that Sam was friends with, was leaning against the door jamb, holding his elbow, his face a patchwork of bruises, his lip bleeding.
Ricky began to sag against the door frame and, without giving it another thought, Ammon rushed forward. Ricky flinched back, but Ammon just reached to support him, holding onto him around his waist. The way that the kid was grasping his elbow, Ammon was pretty sure that it was broken. He didn't make a sound or indicate that he was in pain as Ammon led him over to the chair behind his counter and Ammon had to give him that.
He had broken his collarbone once in the ring and had cussed up a storm the entire drive to the hospital because it had hurt like a bitch.
Ricky sat down, exhaling in relief. Ammon rocked back on his heels, waiting for some kind of explanation.
After a quiet moment, Ricky began laughing, the sound escaping him full of bitterness. "Assholes." He leaned back against the chair, his face pinched from the pain.
After a moment, Ammon said, "I have something that will help. Just a moment."
Ricky nodded and closed his eyes. Ammon came back with a roll of self-adhering wrap, a sling, a couple of painkillers, and a bottle of water. Ricky swallowed the pills gratefully and gulped down the rest of the water in the bottle before Ammon could take it away or something.
"Who did this to you?"
"Does it matter?" Ricky swore under his breath as he accidentally brushed his elbow against the arm of the chair.
"I guess not." Ammon frowned. "You're a mess. Why don't you go try to take a shower and then we'll get your arm wrapped up and all set?"
Ricky shook his head, grinning in disbelief. "Cripes, Beth said that you were really nice, but I didn't actually believe her."
"Beth?" Ammon's voice came out a bit higher than he would have liked. "Have you seen her lately?"
"Nah." Ricky sighed, trying to stand back up. "Hijo de perra—" He growled under his breath, grimacing. It hadn't hurt much at first, but now his arm was really throbbing. "I stopped by The Hole, but no one answered. Really weird. Even if Sam's not there, Beth always lets me in."
"What?" Ammon's heart sunk.
"I yelled through the door for a good five minutes, then waited a bit and tried again. Nothing."
"Maybe they were asleep?" Ammon whispered, though somehow, he didn't believe it.
"I don't know, man. Maybe."
Ammon swallowed back the sick, foreboding feeling that was creeping over him and led Ricky towards his bathroom. "There's clean towels." He nodded towards a cabinet. "Stay put. I'm going to run over there and see…." His voice trailed off. He couldn't finish the thought.
Ricky nodded.
"You stupid enough to steal anything, kid?"
Ricky chuffed out a laugh. "Yeah. Probably. But I won't do it."
"I will be back."
Heading outside, Ammon's steps grew quicker the closer he got to The Hole, until he was sprinting down the empty streets, barrelling around the corners, feeling sick inside.
He should have done something sooner. Shit. Sam. Shit.
He already knew that no one would answer. Pounding on the thick metal door until he ran out of breath only cemented the knowledge. Ammon gripped the door handle, resting his head against the cold metal, and closed his eyes.
They were gone.
A/N: I know. :(( Really hard to write. You can thank NaNoWriMo that I finally got this chapter finished. Thank you for reading! I really appreciate it. Feedback is amazing and I always appreciate an honest review.