Hiya. Short, sweet Goonies h/cish fic. Please don't eat me you non slash
liking folk, I've not got much prime meat on me. Try a sandwich. Anyway,
feel free to review, send me money, criticize, all publicity is good
publicity. Ta.
Baseball
As Mouth woke, all of his limbs ached beyond reasonable belief, severely restricting his movement - it even hurt to raise his head from its pillow and study the surroundings he now found himself lying in. They were certainly familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him remember how he got there, or why he was there. It was Mikey's bedroom, it dawned on him, the posters hanging limply from the peeling, faded wallpaper and the familiar clothes strewn around the floor and over the back of the chairs betraying that fact. In the distance, he heard the slow, therapeutic splashings of water running - perhaps from a sink or a bath; whatever, it was enough to lull him back to sleep.
*
"Mouth?" Mikey whispered, rocking his friend's shoulder slowly and steadily. "Can you hear me, are you awake?"
Mouth wasn't awake, of course. He liked sleeping at the best of times, and that fact coupled with Mikey's ultracomfortable bed and the pain he was in while he was awake was enough for his body to keep him sleeping through almost anything. Mikey sighed and sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the end of his bed and running his fingers through his fine hair, linking them up behind his scalp and letting his muscles relax. To say he was worried about Mouth was something of an understatement: At the time he was terrified, and to a certain extent he still was, the accident was horrifying to watch, and he still wasn't sure Mouth hadn't broken anything. He was lucky if he hadn't, that was for sure.
Drifting back to the events of that morning, he couldn't get the images out of his mind, grotesque and frightening as they were. The baseball, hit far out of the park by Chunk (Chunk had always been brilliant at baseball, he could hit it so far, but could never quite run the full diamond in one go. He often talked about having Data run for him, but no one ever let him. It was cheating. Besides, everyone knew Data would somehow invent wheels to come out of his trainers and make him go twice as fast as everyone else.) was being chased by Mouth, who always prided himself on being the fastest Goonie, out into the road. Mikey knew exactly what was going to happen next, and the knot that tore apart his stomach as he screamed at Mouth to stop still hurt now. Credit to Mouth, he saw the car, and attempted to avoid it. Throwing himself up in the air, he skidded across the bonnet, landing one the side of his cheek the far side of the car, out of view of the others. The driver of the car, obviously scared of the consequences, sped off down the road with a deafening screech, and the Goonies ran as fast as they could to Mouth's aid. Even Chunk.
Mouth had slowly rolled over onto his side, clutching his face and screaming as the hot tarmac scorched his fair skin. MIkey, to his credit, broke all land speed records and got there first, within 15 seconds of the car driving off. Knowing little about first aid, he yanked at Mouth's shoulder and rolled him onto his back, only to be greeted a sight that would haunt him forever. Mouth, his best friend in the whole world, had no skin left on his right cheek, the tarmac having torn it off as he skidded across it from his fall. Tears mixed with the bood slowly rolled down his face and dripped from his chin, pooling on the road beneath him and draining down the slight gradient into the drainage channel. Mouth was hurt.
"Jesus Mouth..." Mikey said, staring into his watery eyes, his lip trembling and his stomach desperately wanting him to be sick.
"God..." Mouth croaked, barely audible. "Help me Mikey... please?"
Mikey hooked one arm under Mouth's legs and one under his head, summoning strength he didn't even know he had to lift him up with his powerful arms, and slowly start to turn to face the others, who for the first time saw the extent of his injuries. They said nothing.
Mikey didn't know what to do with Mouth after he'd walked away from the Goonies, but for some reason he found himself on the road up the hill back to his house. He didn't want to take Mouth home, his home life was shitty enough without having to explain away why he was so hurt, and seeing as Mikey and Brandon pretty much had the run of their house, it seemed like the best idea.
That was six hours ago. Mikey sighed, and continued his vigil.
*
The moon shone down on Mikey's house as he woke from his slumber, feet still on his bed, his bed still containing Mouth, Mouth still led in a foetal circle with his non cut cheek resting on his right forearm As Mikey's eyes flickered opened and his fingertips rubbed away the tiredness, he yawned, taking his feet from his bed and looking down at Mouth.
"Mouth?" He mumbled, hoping he'd now be awake.
No answer.
"Clarke?"
Mouth's head lolled to the side, one eye opening up and a twinge of pain bolting to his brain, his eye twitching shut again before they finally both opened. Slowly, his vision came into focus, and he saw the blurry outline of Mikey, legs crossed underneath him and chin supported on his fist.
"Morning Mikey." He said, surprised at how much it hurt to talk. He didn't really remember why he was in Mikey's bed, he just knew he hurt. The last thing he remembered was running after one of Chunk's record punts, and then... nothing. Waking up for all of 10 seconds, and then nothing again. "Why am I here?"
Mikey wasn't sure whether to tell him the truth or not. He could lie and say he tripped over his own feet and cut his cheek open, and he'd hear no more about it. But he'd feel bad for lying to Mouth, which was one thing he didn't want to do. On the other hand, he could tell him the truth, and know that for the next few months Mouth would do nothing but walk around town looking for the car that hit him. Revenge. Mouth was emotional like that sometimes. He wouldn't let it go, and it was probably all that he'd talk about until he got revenge.
"You got hit by a car." Mikey said, then admonished himself immediately, before deciding it was better off in the long run that he knew the truth. After all, one of the others would probably end up telling him anyway. "When we were playing baseball."
"W-what...?" Mouth was shocked. He didn't remember a thing. "But... how? I just remember running for Chunk's high ball..."
"Yeah." Mikey sighed. "You were. I think you must have been watching it like a hawk, because you ran out into the middle of the road... do you not remember this?"
"No." Mouth was agitated for a split second, before the searing pain in his cheek hit him for the first time. Bolting upright, he fought every muscle in his body and stumbled out of the bed and towards a mirror. His eyes widened as he saw the mess that was his cheek. "Oh god..." He muttered, "How the hell...?"
*
With the last ounce of strength in his body, Mikey dropped Mouth down onto his bed, his eyes still closed and his breathing slow and laboured. Asleep? Unconscious? Mikey didn't know, he certainly wasn't a doctor. Leaving Mouth there for a few minutes, he rushed downstairs and picked up some cotton wool, and a small glass of water, before returning to Mouth's side.
Kneeling, he gingerly dipped the cotton wool into the glass, watching as it soaked up the water, more quickly than he imagined it would. Taking it out and shaking off the excess water, he slowly dabbed it against Mouth's open cheek. Now the red haze of panic was gone, he could see the extent of the damage. Bits of loose gravel from the ill-kept road were lodged in the dark red flesh of Mouth's cheek, like black spots against his skin. They'd have to be removed.
"Jesus Mouth..." Mikey sighed. "You've really done it this time."
*
Mouth, appropriately, stood open mouthed as Mikey told him all about the accident, the car, the collision, how he miraculously saved himself with one majestic leap. Slowly pacing back towards the bed, he led down once again.
"And you've kept me here ever since? Looking after me?" He asked, almost in awe.
"Yeah, thought it was only right. Didn't wanna send you home, wanted to make sure you got better, you know?"
"Yeah..." Mouth smiled even though it hurt more than he could imagine. "I know. Thanks."
Smiling back at him, Mikey grabbed hold of Mouth's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Not a worry Mr Devereaux. I know you'd do the same for me."
Mouth smiled painfully once more, "In a heartbeat."
FIN... ished.
Baseball
As Mouth woke, all of his limbs ached beyond reasonable belief, severely restricting his movement - it even hurt to raise his head from its pillow and study the surroundings he now found himself lying in. They were certainly familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him remember how he got there, or why he was there. It was Mikey's bedroom, it dawned on him, the posters hanging limply from the peeling, faded wallpaper and the familiar clothes strewn around the floor and over the back of the chairs betraying that fact. In the distance, he heard the slow, therapeutic splashings of water running - perhaps from a sink or a bath; whatever, it was enough to lull him back to sleep.
*
"Mouth?" Mikey whispered, rocking his friend's shoulder slowly and steadily. "Can you hear me, are you awake?"
Mouth wasn't awake, of course. He liked sleeping at the best of times, and that fact coupled with Mikey's ultracomfortable bed and the pain he was in while he was awake was enough for his body to keep him sleeping through almost anything. Mikey sighed and sat back in his chair, propping his feet up on the end of his bed and running his fingers through his fine hair, linking them up behind his scalp and letting his muscles relax. To say he was worried about Mouth was something of an understatement: At the time he was terrified, and to a certain extent he still was, the accident was horrifying to watch, and he still wasn't sure Mouth hadn't broken anything. He was lucky if he hadn't, that was for sure.
Drifting back to the events of that morning, he couldn't get the images out of his mind, grotesque and frightening as they were. The baseball, hit far out of the park by Chunk (Chunk had always been brilliant at baseball, he could hit it so far, but could never quite run the full diamond in one go. He often talked about having Data run for him, but no one ever let him. It was cheating. Besides, everyone knew Data would somehow invent wheels to come out of his trainers and make him go twice as fast as everyone else.) was being chased by Mouth, who always prided himself on being the fastest Goonie, out into the road. Mikey knew exactly what was going to happen next, and the knot that tore apart his stomach as he screamed at Mouth to stop still hurt now. Credit to Mouth, he saw the car, and attempted to avoid it. Throwing himself up in the air, he skidded across the bonnet, landing one the side of his cheek the far side of the car, out of view of the others. The driver of the car, obviously scared of the consequences, sped off down the road with a deafening screech, and the Goonies ran as fast as they could to Mouth's aid. Even Chunk.
Mouth had slowly rolled over onto his side, clutching his face and screaming as the hot tarmac scorched his fair skin. MIkey, to his credit, broke all land speed records and got there first, within 15 seconds of the car driving off. Knowing little about first aid, he yanked at Mouth's shoulder and rolled him onto his back, only to be greeted a sight that would haunt him forever. Mouth, his best friend in the whole world, had no skin left on his right cheek, the tarmac having torn it off as he skidded across it from his fall. Tears mixed with the bood slowly rolled down his face and dripped from his chin, pooling on the road beneath him and draining down the slight gradient into the drainage channel. Mouth was hurt.
"Jesus Mouth..." Mikey said, staring into his watery eyes, his lip trembling and his stomach desperately wanting him to be sick.
"God..." Mouth croaked, barely audible. "Help me Mikey... please?"
Mikey hooked one arm under Mouth's legs and one under his head, summoning strength he didn't even know he had to lift him up with his powerful arms, and slowly start to turn to face the others, who for the first time saw the extent of his injuries. They said nothing.
Mikey didn't know what to do with Mouth after he'd walked away from the Goonies, but for some reason he found himself on the road up the hill back to his house. He didn't want to take Mouth home, his home life was shitty enough without having to explain away why he was so hurt, and seeing as Mikey and Brandon pretty much had the run of their house, it seemed like the best idea.
That was six hours ago. Mikey sighed, and continued his vigil.
*
The moon shone down on Mikey's house as he woke from his slumber, feet still on his bed, his bed still containing Mouth, Mouth still led in a foetal circle with his non cut cheek resting on his right forearm As Mikey's eyes flickered opened and his fingertips rubbed away the tiredness, he yawned, taking his feet from his bed and looking down at Mouth.
"Mouth?" He mumbled, hoping he'd now be awake.
No answer.
"Clarke?"
Mouth's head lolled to the side, one eye opening up and a twinge of pain bolting to his brain, his eye twitching shut again before they finally both opened. Slowly, his vision came into focus, and he saw the blurry outline of Mikey, legs crossed underneath him and chin supported on his fist.
"Morning Mikey." He said, surprised at how much it hurt to talk. He didn't really remember why he was in Mikey's bed, he just knew he hurt. The last thing he remembered was running after one of Chunk's record punts, and then... nothing. Waking up for all of 10 seconds, and then nothing again. "Why am I here?"
Mikey wasn't sure whether to tell him the truth or not. He could lie and say he tripped over his own feet and cut his cheek open, and he'd hear no more about it. But he'd feel bad for lying to Mouth, which was one thing he didn't want to do. On the other hand, he could tell him the truth, and know that for the next few months Mouth would do nothing but walk around town looking for the car that hit him. Revenge. Mouth was emotional like that sometimes. He wouldn't let it go, and it was probably all that he'd talk about until he got revenge.
"You got hit by a car." Mikey said, then admonished himself immediately, before deciding it was better off in the long run that he knew the truth. After all, one of the others would probably end up telling him anyway. "When we were playing baseball."
"W-what...?" Mouth was shocked. He didn't remember a thing. "But... how? I just remember running for Chunk's high ball..."
"Yeah." Mikey sighed. "You were. I think you must have been watching it like a hawk, because you ran out into the middle of the road... do you not remember this?"
"No." Mouth was agitated for a split second, before the searing pain in his cheek hit him for the first time. Bolting upright, he fought every muscle in his body and stumbled out of the bed and towards a mirror. His eyes widened as he saw the mess that was his cheek. "Oh god..." He muttered, "How the hell...?"
*
With the last ounce of strength in his body, Mikey dropped Mouth down onto his bed, his eyes still closed and his breathing slow and laboured. Asleep? Unconscious? Mikey didn't know, he certainly wasn't a doctor. Leaving Mouth there for a few minutes, he rushed downstairs and picked up some cotton wool, and a small glass of water, before returning to Mouth's side.
Kneeling, he gingerly dipped the cotton wool into the glass, watching as it soaked up the water, more quickly than he imagined it would. Taking it out and shaking off the excess water, he slowly dabbed it against Mouth's open cheek. Now the red haze of panic was gone, he could see the extent of the damage. Bits of loose gravel from the ill-kept road were lodged in the dark red flesh of Mouth's cheek, like black spots against his skin. They'd have to be removed.
"Jesus Mouth..." Mikey sighed. "You've really done it this time."
*
Mouth, appropriately, stood open mouthed as Mikey told him all about the accident, the car, the collision, how he miraculously saved himself with one majestic leap. Slowly pacing back towards the bed, he led down once again.
"And you've kept me here ever since? Looking after me?" He asked, almost in awe.
"Yeah, thought it was only right. Didn't wanna send you home, wanted to make sure you got better, you know?"
"Yeah..." Mouth smiled even though it hurt more than he could imagine. "I know. Thanks."
Smiling back at him, Mikey grabbed hold of Mouth's hand and squeezed it lightly. "Not a worry Mr Devereaux. I know you'd do the same for me."
Mouth smiled painfully once more, "In a heartbeat."
FIN... ished.