The ketchup stain mocks her. It moves freely across the fabric in a way she is not capable. It creeps and crawls until it slides down the window.
She stops following it and locks eyes with Pete instead.
He stares at her through the glass. His eyes are hard, his jaw set.
She tries to call out to him.
Her voice won't come. It catches in her throat. It dies before it reaches her lips.
Pete shakes his head and turns away.
She tries to call out again. A fit of coughs rumbles through her body.
She rolls over. Blood sprays out with each cough, splattering on the back of the driver's seat.
It takes a few minutes for the coughs to stop. The stain on the upholstery grows. It spreads and thickens. She stares at it when the coughs cease. Has it always been that big? That dark?
She rolls back partially, one shoulder still on the seat, the other on the backrest. She is looking out the windshield.
(They don't turn their heads as they see me ride by)
Panic rises in her chest.
It was all a dream. She hadn't escaped.
(Ok – Ohhhh-kla-homa – lahoma)
-o-
"The doctors say she should be able to be transported in a week," Jane said into the phone.
"How is she doing currently?" Mrs. Fredrick asked.
"Better. The concussion is keeping her from doing much of anything, but she's picking up sign language as quickly as I can teach her."
"Have they said anything further on her hearing?"
"Her eardrums are healing well, but it will still be a few weeks before they heal completely. We won't know until then."
A horse yell distracted Jane from what Mrs. Fredric said next. Jane looked down the hall.
"I'll have to call you back," she said before hanging up.
She quickly made her way down the hallway and stepped into Myka's room.
The girl was sitting up and hunched over. Her arms were wrapped around her torso. Her body was shaking. She was breathing heavily.
Jane walked to the side of the bed and crouched down. Up close she could hear how ragged Myka's breathing was.
She placed a hand on Myka's arm. Myka flinched slightly under the touch but didn't pull away.
"I'm sorry," Myka mumbled.
Jane's breath caught. She raised her hand to Myka's face, gently making her turn. She waited until Myka raised her eyes to look at her before talking.
"No," she said while shaking her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
Tears welled up in Myka's eyes.
Jane shook her head again, holding her own tears back.
She moved forward to wrap her arms around Myka.
Myka froze for a few moments, then wrapped her free arm around Jane, and pressed her face into Jane's shirt.
-o-
Myka twisted her fingers in Jane's shirt. She squeezed her eyes tight, fighting back the tears.
The dream clung to her. It clogged up her veins and congealed in her heart.
Pete's hard look – disapproving, judging, blaming – pierced her, making the dream coat her skin. She couldn't shake it. She couldn't get rid of the fear, panic and shame that were racing through her.
Jane's arm shifted slightly. The dream began to drip off of Myka. Her mind grounded.
She tightened her grip on Jane.
-oOo-
Pete held his head high as he walked down the hallway. He could feel the stares as he went. Not that there was any chance he could have missed them, having already gone through three classes of non-stop questions and non-discreet glances.
His heart clenched.
Myka had gone through similar walks multiple times in the last year.
Similar, but worse.
Everyone now was curious. Every time it had happened to Myka, they had all been malicious.
"Hey, Pete!"
He turned to see some of the guys from the football team. He forced a smile as they walked up.
"It's good to see you back," said Ralph, a senior player who seemed to have taken Kurt Smoller's role as leader.
Pete nodded, stepping away. "Yeah."
Ralph walked closer and draped his arm over Pete's shoulders. He steered Pete back to the group.
"So, spill Lattimer," Ralph ordered.
"Spill what?" Pete asked, moving out from under Ralph's arm.
"C'mon, you've gotta know everything that happened," Scott answered.
"About your friend," Donny picked up. "Myka Bering."
Pete pushed away from them. "I'm not telling you guys anything."
"Why not?" Ralph demanded.
"Because you don't need to know." He turned around and walked away from them. "It's her business."
He was about halfway down the hall when Ralph's arm landed on his shoulders again. He shrugged it off, but Ralph continued to walk next to him.
"Listen, Lattimer," he sighed. "I gotta respect your loyalty to this girl. You may not have picked the best girl, but you seem to really care about her."
Pete's fists clenched. He pushed down the urge to deck Ralph.
"Anyway, Scott's parents are out of town this weekend, so he's having a party Friday night. You wanna come?"
"I can't."
"Why not?"
"I just can't."
Ralph stopped, grabbing Pete's arm to make him stop as well.
"You're losing everything, Pete, siding with this girl. You've already quit football, you're hanging with a bunch of losers at lunch, you haven't been to any parties lately. I don't know if it's cause of her or not, but, you're slipping. You don't have to though. Just stop by if you change your mind."
Pete stared at Ralph's back as he walked away and resisted the urge to flip him off.
-oOo-
The NICU was quiet. The only noise other than Helena's voice was the slight creaking of the wooden rocking chair she sat it.
"Hush a bye, baby. In the tree tops, when the wind blows the cradle will rock."
Her voice was barely above a whisper as it rose and fell with the tune
Christopher moved in her arms, stretching a leg out. His skin was cool against hers, something the nurses assured her would get better as he grew and his heart became better at circulating his blood.
"When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall."
She closed her eyes for a moment, memorizing the feeling of him in her arms. His head, heavier than the rest of his body, fit easily in the crook of her elbow.
When she opened her eyes, another pair, dark and unseeing, was looking up at her.
"And down will come baby, cradle and all."
She grinned, tears welling up. The nurses had said he should open his eyes soon. He wouldn't actually be able to see anything for some time, and it would be even longer before he would process what he was seeing.
She wasn't thinking of that, however, as she looked down in her son's eyes for the first time.
"Hello, love," she whispered.
-oOo-
Leena smiled softly as she stepped into the room.
It felt odd to be back. She had spent longer periods of time away, but only for vacations, not for anything like what had happened.
"It's weird being back," Pete's said as he stepped up next to her.
She nodded without looking at him.
They walked to the armchairs. She set her bag on the floor and sat. Pete dropped his bag and lay across the chair, his legs hanging over one of them arms.
"How was your day?" she asked him.
He shrugged. "Everyone wanted to know what happened to Myka." He sighed, turning his head to look at her. Anger flashed across his face. "Not how she is, just what happened."
"Kids at this school suck," Claudia said as she flopped into a chair. Steve sat in the chair next to her.
"Seriously," Pete grumbled.
"Do you think Artie's gunna actually have us do stuff?" Claudia asked.
"Yes. I am."
Leena chuckled as Artie's gruff voice came from behind them. They twisted around, looking over the backs of their chairs to look at him. Pete struggled to push himself up, then perched on the arm.
"You're going to review today," Artie continued as he walked into the room. "After a short run."
Leena expected Pete to complain, even jokingly. She expected him to fall back down and groan.
"How short of a run?" he asked instead as he stood.
-oOo-
Claudia stopped and glanced around the room as she followed Pete back in after the run. Steve ran into her from behind. His arms wrapped around her as they stumbled.
"Sorry," he said, dropping his arms. "You okay?"
She nodded and looked around the room again.
"She's in the bookshelves," Steve mumbled.
"What?"
He stepped away, giving her a look, jerking his head in the direction of the shelves. Claudia looked in that direction, and bit her lip.
"Go talk to her," he urged. "You really should."
He stepped around her towards the desks. She groaned at how right he was. She had been avoiding Leena since the kiss at Pete's. Steve, for reasons unknown to her, had been trying to convince her to actually talk to her instead.
Weird boy logic that, for once, made sense.
She took a deep breath before walking to the bookshelves.
-o-
Leena could hear Claudia's shoes scuff against the floor as she walked closer. She took a deep breath to remind herself to stay calm, no matter what Claudia wanted.
"Leena?"
She turned. Claudia was standing at the end of the aisle. Her head was down and one of her feet was on its side. She looked absolutely adorable, a thought Leena instantly berated herself for having. Claudia was years younger than her, and was allowed to be adorable in a little kid way, not in a kissable pout way.
"Yeah?"
"I… I'm sorry, for what happened when we were at Pete's."
"There's nothing for you to be sorry for," Leena cut in, knowing that Claudia wanted to say more.
"And," Claudia pushed forwards, "I want to know if you would want to meet up sometime – notasadate – so we can actually talk without me kissing you and running."
Her words ran together and she didn't take a breath the entire sentence. Her anxiety over the topic bled into her voice.
Leena watched her for a moment, then smiled. "That's probably a good idea," she said. She might finally be able to convince Claudia to wait a few years.
"Good, great, fantastic," Claudia said, running a hand through her hair. "We can figure out when and where later, right?"
"We can."
"Perfect." Claudia spun around and stalked off before another word could be said.
Leena stared at where she had been standing, then laughed lightly.
She was so screwed.
-oOo-
Myka stared at her hand. She pressed fingertip to thumb. Over and over again.
She closed her eyes but kept the movements going. Her world shrunk to where her skin connected. Nothing else registered in her senses.
She stopped tapping her fingers together, and rubbed them together instead. Her skin was soft. Her nails scratched against her palm. She would have to cut them soon.
She opened her eyes and stared at her hand again.
She went through the alphabet signs. She was sure she messed the 'Q' up. She would have to ask Jane when she came back.
She let her hand drop.
She was bored.
She was back under the concussions restrictions. No reading or writing, Jane was sure to enforce that. Even if she had been able to hear the TV, she wouldn't have been able to watch it. Jane was only teaching her so much sign language at a time.
She sighed and stared out the door. She watched the nurses walk past. She started to build a life for each one.
That one has a loving husband at home, 2.5 kids, and a cockapoo. The next lives with four roommates, six cats, and a tank full of fish. The one sitting at the desk, barely visible from her angle, isn't really a nurse. She is an international spy here to kill the very bad person five rooms down.
Someone walked up to the spy at the desk, their hood up and hands in their pockets. They turned slightly, the new angle letting Myka see part of their face.
Her chest constricted. Her world narrowed.
The man turned completely.
It wasn't him.
A weight lifted from her chest as tears began to fall.
For a moment, she had been back in that car. She had been powerless.
She adjusted her pillow behind her so she could lie down. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment, then squeezed her eyes shut.
It felt like she had never left that car.
-oOo-
Pete rolled his neck as he walked out of the school. Twenty minutes running hurt more than it should. The hour of review had hurt even more.
"Can you give me a ride to my house?" he asked Leena.
"I thought you were staying at Steve's."
"I am, but I have to meet HG at my place."
"HG?" Claudia asked as she came up behind them.
"HG Wells."
"Helena?" Leena asked.
"Nah, the actual HG Wells," Claudia cut in. "He was cryogenically frozen with Walt Disney and escaped."
Leena rolled her eyes and led them to her car.
Claudia stopped after a moment. "Are her initials really HG?"
-oOo-
Helena couldn't help but notice the way Pete's fist clenched around the doorknob before he opened the door. The change put her on edge; he had been relaxed during the rest of the tour around the house.
"This will be yours and Myka's room."
The tone in Pete's voice kept her from looking around the room. Instead, she turned to him.
"Are you alright with Christopher and me staying here?" she asked.
Pete's eyes widened in shock.
"What? Of course I am."
"Are you sure? If you aren't, I can find somewhere else to live."
"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't say I was. Besides, I think it'd be cool having you and the Chris man here."
Helena watched him for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you."
He grinned at her. "Of course."
"One thing, however," she continued. "Never call him Chris. His name is Christopher."
"What? C'mon, it's a nickname."
"I am well aware of what it is. I simply do not wish for my son to be referred to as Chris."
He sighed.
"How about, I agree to call him Christopher, if I get to call you HG."
She quirked an eyebrow up. "Didn't we already talk about my initials?"
"Yeah, but, it's just so cool." He looked at her with a lopsided smile.
She sighed. "If you must."
"Awesome. Myka's gunna love it, B-T-dubs."
She couldn't help but smile at his reaction. She stepped into the room and looked around.
Two beds were pushed against the wall opposite the door. One had its side against the wall and the foot over the window. The other had the headboard against the wall. A desk, dresser, and bureau stood against the other walls.
Her smile grew slightly. It would be a tight fit, even more so once Christopher was brought from the hospital. Still, she couldn't think of a place she would rather stay.