nine
Delilah held Hilde up once more as she led her to her room, still untouched after her short departure. We've missed you.
Welcome home.
Hilde didn't speak. She slept and slept without stop and only drank when she was awake, three to five short minutes a day. The nurses didn't take action until she'd lost the ability to even get out of bed.
Later, she was hooked up to an iv drip and kept monitored severely. The halls were never the same, though never really impacted greatly by the slight person who'd graced them with a shattered heart and the smallest hope of her knight in shining armor to return.
Krista was usually the one who stayed up in the night to spend time with Hilde. She told her about her reasons for being at Sweetwater and read Hilde her diary on a few occasions. Everyone did their part to help Hilde, even Nina, who had become rather matronly in her short trip away from Sweetwater. Fresh cut flowers from the garden were always in sight, with knitted covers shoddy and snarled by Samantha and Molly thrown by her feet, and the return of homely, sister like talks that made the days more endurable.
I'm so glad you're still alive, Midii said across the kitchen table, Teddy at her hands. You survived.
So did you.
Trowa sipped at Midii's gourmet coffee, which she'd run through the coffee maker only minutes before, and could barely grasp the thought that the scrawny, outspoken little girl spy he'd known from the early years of revolution, had grown into such a well balanced woman. It was their first real get together since their chance meeting at the circus. They hadn't spoken at all until then.
Even so, she had decided not to tell him about Sweetwater. Reese, who was out on a date with her arching instructor, Rowen, had left Midii with news of the latest bow and arrow mishap, and told her also not to wait up. Trowa had plenty to tell Midii, and Midii found that just sitting with him, drinking her coffee, was wonderfully enough to pass the hush between talk.
Heero and Duo sat casually, finally at ease, in a restaurant. Seven days had rounded themselves into the recent past. Duo was up to speed and even more sorry for his foolishness. Caitlin, who was busy bussing tables at the restaurant, barely noticed them at the far back, shrouded by slight, dimly cast shadows.
What are you going to do now?
What should I do?
Ticked by such a stupid question, Heero stirred his coffee. You love her don't you?
Yes. She's my world, Heero.
Anything for the one you love, remember? Practice what you preach. Now fix your own damn problems, I have to go settle my own scores.
Bill McMillen sat in the middle of the floor in his condo bedroom with a load of insurance money surrounding him. He made an indignant face and snapped a rubber band from a wad of money at the woman who was sleeping in his bed. His mistress, a lady that went by the name Marla. She gurgled a strange vulgarity and got up--the sheets the only strip of material covering her naked form--snorted long and hard, pressing her eyes closed.
Ew. You are so primitive. Use a Kleenex for christ's sake!
She hocked up a wad of mucus and let it fly, nailing him right in the back of the head while he was shuddering in utter disgust. Bill screeched and roared that prostitutes were overrated and started chasing her, ass naked as the day she was born, through his house with a three hole punch flailing in the air.
You deserve it, you dirty shit! Marla tugged on her clothes in the bathroom. You ruined the life of too many girls and their true loves, you deserve a lot more than the loogey of disrespect!
Marla climbed out through the window, and when she reached the front of the house, she flipped him off. He stood behind the door, red as a cooked lobster.
You should be castrated, you pig!
Intermission
greeted a young lady, sitting on a couch in front of a thirty two inch television and a large arrangement of flowers, I'm Casey Lou, the author of this fic.
She stretched her legs out onto the coffee table and put away a stack of disorganized papers. I just wanted to tell you about my attempt here, and take up some spare time that I just can't seem to fill otherwise here in chapter nine.
Well, I broke the keyboard after completing chapter four, but that doesn't matter because I don't post until after I'm completely done. Aside from that, I wrote chapters five to this one in a single night over a... she paused and stared at the ceiling to recount the time, I'd say a four or five, maybe even six hour span at the keyboard. With such notations as you type fast from my mom and Casey, you want some cake? here and there.
About the history of Sweetwater. It started in February, 2001, inspired by the great movie Girl, Interrupted. It took a few weeks to get the idea into shape, but with plenty of time at the computer and an endless amount of personal support from myself and my writing confidant, I fumbled my way through the first four chapters without much more than a typed plan explaining each proposed chapter in fragmented sentences.
As some inside information found here and here only, there are cameos. I show up and so does my writing confidante, personally. Not just as stock traits, but in actual form, other than a subtle name change. The characters in Sweetwater Mental Institution were based off of my own swinging moods. I'm not obsessive like Iris and I'm not violent like Krista, but those are the types of personalities you'd find me spouting off in an empty house...
Um, anyway. Heero's affection for Hilde was my intent. I have a slight pang for sticking two characters together, to explore. Everything except for the sphincter! Don't expect me to write yaoi, it's too hilarious for me to even think of. Yes, I have read two agonizingly funny yaois that weren't supposed to be funny--I don't think--so don't say that I'm homophobic and don't think I'm close minded. I'm about as wide open as a person can get. Lessee, Duo and Hilde, my first Gundam Wing couple, are getting kind of old and tarnished for my tastes, so I try other pairings. Heero and Hilde, so on, blah blah blah.
Casey turned the stereo on and put it on Disk Two. The plucking magic of Jimmy Page on his beloved Les Paul wafted through the air in the unmistakable intro to Stairway to Heaven. She smiled in a very pleased fashion and went on.
During chapters four through...well, the one you're reading now, I was listening to Tom Petty. And if you know me from the deadened Beret & the Braid, you know that my first fiction was Learning to Fly. Please, Casey moans dramatically and crosses her legs Indian stye. Please, please don't hold that against me. I can't do anything with the site because I'm stuck on Mac trash which Yahoo doesn't support! So I'm screwed, tighter than a bolt! Oh, and the connection, Learning to Fly is a Tom Petty song. As well as a Pink Floyd one...?
She gets up and goes into the kitchen, passing the famed computer currently holding a Sorcerer Hunters background image, as well as the infamous fifty five gallon fish tank she stares at when she's lost the power of word. I want to apologize also for the shortness of the past chapters. I did write them in one night; a person gets worn down! Plus, I wanted to (WARNING: lame ass excuse coming up) experiment with rising action and climax.
She gritted her teeth and shrugged characteristically.
Okay, okay, I admit, that was an all out lie. But maybe it'll work, eh? Um, she gets out a carton of Minute Maid orange juice and pours a tall glass. What else is there?
Her mother, Wanda, pulls into the driveway and Casey immediately shuts her mouth. She chugs the orange juice and turns the TV on to make herself appear as if she hadn't been speaking to anyone. Wanda walks in after unlocking the door and sighed a greeting to Casey.
The bus didn't come again?
Did you call the number?
I swear to God! What is wrong with you? She raised her hands and changed her tune, I'm going to bed. Don't wake me up. Get online or something so the phone wont ring.
Casey smiled evilly, mimicking the Grinch's curling smirk. No problem. I'll look up that information of Cancun.
Not Cancun! Playa de Carmen!
Her mother headed to her room and got ready to go to bed after her eight hour working fit through the night. Casey jumped up and hopped to the computer. Time to catch up on some fan fiction! Later!
End of Intermission
...to be continued...