I hate the world today
You're so good to me
I know that I can't change
I try to tell you, but you look at me like maybe
I'm an angel underneath
Innocent and sweet
--from Bitch by Meredith Brooks
Gabe folded up the lawn chair and tucked the book under her arm.
"Y'wanna go inside?" Micah shrugged a little, finally tearing his eyes from the door where Jeremiah had disappeared.
"I don't care. What do you want to do?" She paused, then turned and headed for the garage.
"Here. I'll get us each a soda and we can go for a walk, okay?"
(Well, there might be a problem there...)
He kept the morbid joke to himself.
"Sure. Coke, please." Gabe returned with the sodas, handed them to Micah, and took the handles of the wheelchair.
"I'm going to push you down the driveway, okay? You can do the rest yourself, but I'd rather get you down the hill first." She snickered into her hand, slowly inching down the slanted concrete. "Mrs. Pheeny wouldn't be pleased to see you lying face-first in her daisies."
"You think that's funny?" asked Micah threateningly, shaking one of the sodas slightly. She raised her eyebrows at him as they went over the bump at the end of the driveway.
"That's yours now."
"Sure," he said, rolling his eyes. The girl slowed a little, turning, and began forward on the smooth street.
"Hand me a soda, would you?" she asked as she peered at something in one of the front lawns that dotted the sides of the road. Micah snickered, ready to take his opportunity on the unwary Gabe. She was apparently focused on a chocolate-colored dog in front of a brick house. "Hey, Charlie!" she crooned, waving. The dog barked and wagged its tail happily. Micah handed her the shaken-up can of Coke and grinned. Gabe glanced at him with a smile. "Thanks."
"No problem," he said cheerfully, and opened his soda. With a pop and a fizz, brown bubbles exploded from the can and splattered Micah's face. He sputtered, nearly dropping it. The girl wasn't even surprised; she just tapped the top of hers a few times and opened it. No explosion. She took a drink.
"Nice try," said Gabe smugly. "I took the precaution of shaking them both up."
Once Micah had wiped the sticky Coke off of his face, they started up again. Gabe leaned casually on the back of his wheelchair, pushing it slowly so he could have his hands free to drink his soda.
"Over there's where Mr. Wagner lives. He doesn't talk to anyone." She paused, then added thoughtfully, "He does yell at the paperboy, though..."
"Sounds pleasant." Micah took a careful sip and pointed at another house. "What about there?" The girl made a face.
"Liz and Brandy Mullins. They're total preps and complete bitches. Steer clear of them." He watched the house disappear past them.
"Sounds like your entire neighborhood is antisocial," Micah said mildly, turning the can slowly in his hands. He paused, then ventured, "Except Jeremiah."
"Yeah." Gabe nodded. "He's cool. I've known him for a long time, ever since we were in grade school." She frowned a little. "I still don't understand about his name. I've always called him Jeremy."
"Maybe it's sort of like Prince," Micah said helpfully. "You know, the guy formerly known as Jeremy?" Gabe blinked at him, then snickered and tousled his black hair.
"Smart ass."
"Thank you. I wear that title with pride." They reached the end of the street and began to turn around when he glimpsed the house. He twisted to see it. "Hey, wait, go back!"
"What?" Gabe looked over her shoulder, turning the wheelchair slowly around. "Grimm Defeat?" Micah looked up, confused.
"Huh?" She eyed the house warily.
"The people who lived there before were the Grimms. They left and no one wanted the house, so it just sorta... fell apart. A Grimm Defeat." Gabe grinned and bent to lean closer to his face. "Yeah, we've got everything. Cranky old man, all-American boy, and now the delipidated wreck."
"Is it haunted?" Micah asked, smirking. She looked at him and arched a brow.
"I don't know. Would you like to see for yourself?"
"Not particularly." He turned his attention back to the house. It was a huge old thing, two or three floors at the least. The shingles were falling off. The paint was chipped and peeling, and even a few windows had been broken. It was the perfect 'haunted' house. "Grimm Defeat," Micah murmured, deciding he liked the sound of it.
"If you're so fascinated with it," Gabe said suddenly, turning the chair around, "I'll drop you off after dinner and you can stay there all night." He blinked in surprise and shook his head.
"Nah, that's all right." There was a short pause, then she bent to whisper in his ear.
"Wanna go for a ride?" Micah glanced at her, confused, then let out a yelp of surprise as Gabe started running. Houses passed with surprising speed and the ground beneath him turned into a blur. It was terrifying at first, but once he stopped gripping the arms of his chair for dear life, the ride was sort of fun. "Hold on!" she whooped, swerving into the driveway. His hair was whipped back from his face as they hit a blast of wind, and suddenly it was all over. The chair was still, his hair stayed in place, and Gabe was panting.
"What was that?" Micah asked dimly, finally letting go of the armrests. She laughed breathlessly.
"I don't know. But it was fun, wasn't it?" Gabe set the brake on his chair and lowered her face to his. He smiled a little, then nodded.
"Yeah. Pretty fun." She grinned good-naturedly and planted a kiss on the top of his head.
"C'mon. Let's go inside. We have things to tend to." Micah raised his eyebrows.
"We do?"
"I'm sure we could find something that needs tending," Gabe said, giving him a suggestive grin. Unable to contain a smile of his own, he chuckled quietly.
"Well, when you put it that way..." She unlocked the brake and plowed the wheelchair forward.
"Onward, ho!" Gabe cried, and charged up the makeshift ramp.
They rocketed down the hallway towards Gabe's room.
"One small step for man," she giggled. He finished for her with a snicker.
"One giant leap for me!"
"Stop right there." Micah and Gabe both jumped; she swerved and turned the wheelchair around.
"What, Edith?" she asked, not quite concealing the disappointment in her voice. The chubby woman held a small bottle in her hand. Both teenagers sighed mentally.
"Micah has to take his medicine," Edith informed them sternly, advancing. "And you know how it tires him out, so you'd better leave him to rest." She took the wheelchair from Gabe, who moaned in protest.
"Ee-dith," she complained, and Micah looked up at the plump woman.
"If you want, I'll go lay down. But if it's okay, I'd like to have Gabe in there to talk to me -- for just a little while," he added hurriedly. Edith pursed her lips and glanced between the two, then sighed in defeat.
"All right, seems fair. Here." She quickly spooned out some of the sticky liquid and held it towards Micah, who swallowed it. He made a face. It always tasted disgusting. Gabe had perked up; she reclaimed the wheelchair.
"Great. I'll come out after he's fallen asleep and help with lunch, 'kay?"
"Of course, Gabe dear," Edith said pleasantly, bustling back towards the living room. "I'll be watching my soaps if you need me."
"Fat chance," Gabe whispered in his ear, and Micah covered a snicker with his hand. She opened the door to his room and slipped in quickly.
"God, I hate that stuff," he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.
"Hits you pretty hard, huh?" The girl had appeared before him and was now looking at him sympathetically.
"Yeah." He didn't even need to be told; Micah lifted his arms and was immediately hoisted into the bed. He reached down for the comforter and pulled it up to his waist -- he wasn't cold, just didn't like his legs constantly displayed. Gabe settled on the edge of the bed, then reconsidered. With a grunt, she laid down on the mattress beside Micah and turned on her side to look at him.
"Sorry you have to keep taking it," she murmured once she was situated, "but Dr. Phillips said you only have a week or so left of the prescription, so it's almost over." Micah was silent for a moment, looking at her face.
(Oh, those blue eyes...)
Then he smiled.
"Well, parts of it aren't so bad," he whispered, touching the tip of her nose lightly. Gabe grinned and nestled a little closer.
"I agree." She scooched forward even more, ducking her head under his so her hair brushed the underside of his chin. "You sleepy yet?"
"A little." Micah felt her lean her face against his collarbone. When she stopped moving, he gently curled an arm around Gabe and let out a little breath of air.
"Then go ahead," she murmured to his neck, sounding a little tired herself. "Go to sleep. I'll stay here for a little while."
"That's what you said in the hospital," mumbled Micah as his eyelids drooped, "and you remember how that turned out."
"Well, there's no one here to get angry at us if I do fall asleep, so I've got nothing to lose." Gabe fell silent and began tracing the letters on his shirt. He let his eyes close.
"Mmn." She paused, then leaned her forehead against his neck.
"Sleep well, Micah," she whispered. "No bad dreams." Micah didn't answer; he drifted into a light sleep. Had he stayed awake just a few moments longer, he would've heard Gabe add, "I love you."
He smiled at the girl bound on the bed of cornstalks.
"You little bastard!" she shrieked, but there was more fear there than anger. He gave her a cold sneer.
"First cut out her tongue. Then when her pitiful protestations are silenced, CARVE OUT HER HEART!" The Children nodded their assent, but said nothing. The woman beside the girl shook her bonds worriedly.
"For God's sake, Danny!" she cried, but he knew Danny wouldn't listen. Danny was one of them now.
"Each drop of their blood shall nourish the seeds of new life," he murmured, turning to Danny. "Let the new harvest begin." But Danny wasn't there. Gabe was there instead.
"Do you really think you should be doing this?" She had her arms crossed over her chest and her head tipped knowingly. "I don't think it's such a good idea." Anger filled him, hot and racing. How dare she defy his word!
"Infidel," he whispered. "Do you challenge me?" Gabe snorted, covering her mouth with her hand.
"God, you sound like one of those TV evangelists. Give it up, Micah. This isn't right, and you know it." He stared at her, the anger dying down. She sounded like she knew what she was talking about... Then a voice whispered in his ear.
"You know what to do." He nodded, then smiled. Yes, he knew what to do. He turned to the Children and held up his hands for silence.
"First cut out her tongue. Then when her pitiful protestations are silenced, CARVE OUT HER HEART!"
"Micah, Micah! Wake up, wake up, you're having a nightmare!" He jolted out of the bad dream and found himself staring into Gabe's worried face.
(she's going to open her mouth to talk but she won't be able to talk because she'll have no tongue)
"Honey," she murmured, stroking his face lightly. "You were thrashing around and screaming about insubordination." Her eyes squinted a little. "Are you all right?"
(and there's a gaping hole in her chest where her heart should be)
"Fine," Micah mumbled, and was surprised to find that he was out of breath. He looked up at Gabe -- and for one long, horrible moment, she was just as he imagined: no tongue, no heart, bathed in a thin sheen of blood. Then Gabe was Gabe again. He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into her fingers for comfort. "No," he gasped, breath quickening again, "No, not fine. Bad."
"Oh, honey," she whispered. Gabe bent forward and held him tightly. Micah just buried his face in her shoulder -- her blessedly blood-free shoulder -- and exhaled shakily.
"I'd never do that." He was mumbling before he knew it, and found himself unable to stop. "I'd never do that, never, I promise, I promise--"
"Shh." Gabe tightened her embrace. "I believe you." Micah squeezed his eyes shut and tried to relax. Because even though he said he'd never hurt her, he no longer trusted himself.
And that frightened him.