Chapter 8: …Even Cold November Rain

The rain started on that Wednesday, and kept going with no sign of letting up. The school grounds quickly transformed themselves from lush green fields into deadly bogs and marshes. Students alternated between squealing and running from one shelter to another, or piling a folder on their head and strolling along, making jokes about arks if they had to venture outside. Or so Luis observed from his position by the window.

He had avoided school all week, the school nurse had been sent to see him, and was eyeing him with extreme concern. She signed him up for a counselling programme, which Luis had every intention of avoiding. He was quite happy holed up in his room, observing the activities of the students from behind his rain-splattered window.

Except that he was far from happy. He couldn't believe that Mindy was gone. Mindy of all people. The girl who took her squad to the nationals every year and brought home the first place trophy, the girl who was elected Queen of every single dance without fail. The girl who had been so full of life had ceased to exist.

Averman had been dragged back to class, they had let him off the first day, but halfway through the second Charlie had come up with a message that if Averman didn't show up to the next class he'd be on detention for life. Luis resented the school for that. Didn't they realise that he wanted Averman around? That Averman's presence made dealing with Mindy's death just a little more bearable? That Averman knew exactly what to say and do?

Averman wasn't exactly playing by the rules though; during study periods he came back to the dorm and sat with Luis. Sometimes he didn't say anything, not even a greeting. He just took a seat beside him and they looked out the window together. At lunch he would turn up with some form of food and remind Luis to eat. He even missed drama practice in favour of sitting in silence with Luis. He would be missing afternoon classes today to go with him to the funeral.

Neither of their grades were flagging during this time though. Julie had been an absolute star, she had borrowed their timetables, contacted people in the class, copied their notes and done their homework for them, making sure she got a couple of questions wrong, just so it wouldn't look suspicious. The rest of the Ducks covered for Averman when he was late to class. Luis was aware of this information, but couldn't remember how he knew. Maybe Averman had told him.

Luis supposed that he was in some form of shock, because the hours seemed to pass quickly but he had no recollection of what had happened during them. He hated the way he felt. It wasn't just the fact that Mindy was gone that had rocked his world, it was the fact that she was so young and had been so alive. If Mindy could die, anyone could. He could. Averman could.

He realised that Averman was in his thoughts a lot. A couple of months ago, Annie would have been here instead. She would have held him, and let him talk about Mindy. Instead Luis now talked to Averman. It felt better that way; Averman hadn't known Mindy, whereas Annie and Mindy had been rivals. Whether Annie admitted it or not, she had desperately wanted to be captain of the cheerleading squad, but knew that while Mindy was there, she wouldn't be. The two of them often fought about routines, and practice times. There were many "pranks" where one of them changed a practice time and did not tell the other, in an attempt to undermine each other's authority.

So talking to Averman was better, he didn't feel either way about Mindy, he neither liked nor disliked her. Averman had admitted that he wished he'd talked to her, instead of following the heard about "Riley's Ex" as she had been known. This made Luis feel better, although he wanted human contact. Aside from the first night, and the occasional touch, Averman had generally kept in his own personal bubble of space. Luis just wanted to hold on to someone.

And it felt perfectly right if that someone was Averman.

Averman sat beside Luis in the church, trying not to fidget. Churches got to him, especially at times like this, when everything was so quiet and fraught. Because he did not lean towards any particular organised religion, Averman always felt guilty when in church. Like he should have made more of an effort to embrace some sort of faith.

Seeing Mindy's smiling picture standing at the front of the church made him feel worse. From Luis' stories of her, Mindy had seemed like a genuinely sweet girl, but he had never given her the time of day, based solely on his dislike for her ex.

Annie was seated in an aisle a few rows behind them, with the rest of the cheerleaders that had known Mindy. She looked wildly different in a dark suit with her hair tamed into a severe bun. All the cheerleaders did. It seemed very odd to see a bunch of such bright and vivacious girls sitting quietly.

When the minister started talking about Mindy, Averman was moved by the words. According to Luis, the minister had not known Mindy any more than he had, but as he recounted tales given to him from family members, Averman once again wished he had known her. If the Minister's words were affecting him, how was Luis feeling? He glanced at Luis, who was visibly shaking, fighting the silent tears in the corners of his eyes.

Averman didn't have a clue what to do. When someone cried it was obligatory to say "are you ok?" or something similar, which was just plain ridiculous, Luis was quite obviously not ok, and the reasons were just as blindingly apparent. Plus, talking during a funeral was considered bad form.

He reached out, not quite sure what to do, perhaps touch Luis' arm in a reassuring way, but his fingers found Luis' and somehow they became entangled.

Luis did not let go throughout the whole service.

Not everyone followed the coffin to the cemetery for the interment. The torrential rain discouraged most, and only Mindy's closest family, armed with umbrellas, followed – and Averman momentarily wondered where black umbrellas came from, did everyone have them and only use them for funerals? His family had a couple of umbrellas at home, his sisters had whatever was trendy at the time, and his mother had a bright red polka-dotted one. Did people buy them, or did the funeral director supply them?

He shook his head, trying to clear the stupid thoughts from it. Luis had let go of his hand sometime between getting up from the pews and reaching the chilly exterior of the church. He hadn't noticed it happening but, now that he was aware, felt rather lost without the connection between them.

He heard muffled conversations around them, about who was attending the wake, the vague utterance that it had been a lovely service and such like. He found himself wondering why people always whispered at funerals. While there was no logic to it, he found himself asking Luis in a very low tone what they were to do now.

"Can we just go for a walk or something?" Luis replied, in an equally quiet voice.

Averman gazed out into the pouring rain. "Sure."

The cemetery was edged on two sides by roads, but on the other two it merged into woodland, and Luis led them towards that. Luis walked just fast enough to make conversation impossible, but slow enough to show he had no real destination. Averman wasn't sure how long they walked, or how far, but he was aware that he was soaked to the bone, his pale skin had gone even whiter and his knuckles looked inverted in the cold. He was so wet that his untameably curly hair was flattened straight by the weight of the rain, where it paused before sluicing down his neck.

Luis finally turned back towards the cemetery itself, and eventually stopped beside Mindy's grave, identifiable by a small black plastic marker that simply said "Melinda Jane Pinkerton, In our hearts forever" with the dates below. Averman understood that the walk had just been a way to kill time before saying goodbye to her by himself without all of her friends and family watching.

"Do you want me to leave you alone for a bit?" he offered.

Luis turned to look at him with bloodshot eyes. "No… please don't leave." He held out his hand again and Averman took a step forward and took it, it was like touching ice.

Luis returned his gaze to the freshly dug ground in front of them. Ground that was quickly becoming a mud puddle. His head was bowed slightly and, as Averman watched, a droplet of water skated down a strand of Luis' gelled hair and plinked on the ground before them.

"I don't get it, why isn't there a better grave stone for her?" Luis said, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain landing on everything around them.

"It's a rule, just a law. You can't put a proper grave stone up until six months have passed," Averman replied.

"Why?"

Averman stayed silent, for fear that the words "possible exhumation" would upset Luis further.

"How do you even know these things?" Luis asked, when it became apparent that he'd figured the first answer out for himself.

"We did a play called Six Feet Under. Jenna and I came down to speak to the local funeral director about it, just to get some further knowledge," Averman replied.

Luis lapsed into silence, and Averman just stood quietly beside him, his thumb idly moving over Luis' trying to create some warmth in the bitter cold. "What's going through your head?" he asked at length.

"That I don't get it."

"Get what? Death?"

"Yeah."

"There's nothing to get. It doesn't make sense, there's no reason for it mostly. Some people die young, some people die alone, some people die at the age of ninety, surrounded by loving families. There's no logic. Nobody gets it." Averman replied, not quite sure where his words were coming from, but appreciating – for the first time – that his mouth was sometimes quicker than his brain.

"I don't want to die," Luis choked out, ripping his hand away from Averman, and swiping angrily at the tears that were finally falling. "I don't want anyone around me to die."

Averman floundered for a few seconds, then acting on impulse he grabbed Luis' upper arms and turned him to face him. "You're not going to die. Nor anyone else in your life. Not now. Just because this has happened doesn't mean that everyone will live short lives."

Luis stared at the ground between them. "I couldn't take it if this happened to anyone else that I… What if it happened to you?"

Averman slid his hands up to Luis' face, and tilted it up, so he could look him in the eye. "I'm not going anywhere. Neither is anyone else. You're grieving, but it will be ok. Not right now, not tomorrow, maybe not next month, but you won't feel this way forever. It will get easier."

Luis crumbled visibly, tears flowing freely down his face. Again Averman acted on pure impulse and pulled Luis close to him, wrapping his arms around his roommate. This was clearly the right thing to do, because Luis responded instantly, his arms weaving around Averman as he rested his head on his shoulder.

They stayed like that for a very long time, while all the raw grief that Luis had been holding onto worked its way out of his system.

"Hey," Averman said in surprise when Luis' tears began to taper off. "The rain's stopped."

Then he sneezed.

They caught a taxi back to school, the driver forced them to sit on plastic bags so as not to damage his fine (bog standard nylon) upholstery with their wet clothes. Luis observed worriedly that Averman was shaking and couldn't get his teeth to stop chattering. They had both been shaking by the time the cab arrived, but Luis had stopped a few minute into the journey. He wanted to reach out and take Averman's hand again, but the presence of the driver, who was giving them evil looks for dripping in his cab, made him hesitate.

Once back at Eden Hall, Luis shepherded Averman to their room to collect towels before sending him off for a hot shower to warm himself up. It seemed strange to be taking control when Averman had spent the past week forcing Luis to go about his life in a somewhat human fashion, he thought as he changed out of his wet clothes and hung them up to dry along the outside of the wardrobe.

"You look awful," Luis observed, as Averman stepped into the Shoebox.

Averman mouth worked soundless for a couple of seconds, as he seemed to deliberate between acting offended or just replying. "Thanks," he said finally in a very tired tone, as he flopped down on his bed, face down. He lifted his head and peered at Luis. "You look better though, in a drowned rat kind of way. More with it, less scary trance-state." He winced and touched his throat gently.

"You want me to get you a hot drink?" Luis offered. "Or maybe soup?"

"Shouldn't I be offering that to you?" Averman asked.

"You look ill," Luis said bluntly. "And you've been running around after me all week."

"The drinks from the vending machine taste like dishwater," Averman said.

"Annie has a kettle in her room." Luis smiled. "I'll go make you a drink."

Averman mumbled something into the pillow in a very sleepy voice. Luis smiled at him again and got up to go to the girls' dorms.

Annie was not yet back from the funeral, he assumed she had gone on to the wake at the Pinkerton' residence, but Terri was in the room. Luis withheld a sigh as he asked her if he could come in and use the kettle. She just opened the door for him, and flopped on her bed. Even Luis, who barely knew her, could tell that something was wrong. She seemed oddly subdued.

"I'm sorry about Mindy," she said in a small quiet voice as they waited for the kettle to boil.

"Yeah," Luis replied. He didn't know how to respond to that statement, despite hearing it all week. He decided on a subject change. "Are you ok? You seem very quiet."

She sighed. "I'm just having a dilemma. Someone told me that they have a crush one someone else but wouldn't tell me who, but I get a feeling that the someone else is the same person who's crushing on the first someone's best friend. I have a feeling everything will unravel shortly."

"I don't understand a word you say," Luis announced, pouring instant soup into Annie's cheerleader mug.

"I get that a lot."

"Averman, wake up." Luis prodded his shoulder gently.

"I don't feel well," Averman mumbled in a sleepy tone.

"You don't look it either, but you haven't eaten today. Drink the soup."

"Is it chicken?" he asked hopefully.

"Tomato, Annie doesn't like instant chicken soup, says it tastes like chalk." Luis replied.

"Valid point." He eyed the cup. "It's got a cheerleader on it."

"It's Annie's lucky mug," Luis replied, setting it down on the nightstand between the two beds, knocking a couple of items to the floor to make space.

"That doesn't make it ok."

"Drink the soup." Luis repeated. His eyes lit up as he thought of a good encouragement. "I bet Banksie would drink the soup instantly. And he wouldn't have cared what was on the mug."

"You're wrong," Averman said, but he took the mug. "Banksie would have just slept quietly until he was better, he would not have announced he was ill. And he would have denied accusations that he wasn't well too."

"Just drink the soup. Or I will," Luis replied, smiling slightly at the normalcy of the conversation. Given the past week, it felt good to have a stupid conversation with Averman.

Averman clutched the soup to himself, spilling a little on his pillow. "You will not. It's my soup. I'm dreadfully ill."

"Good boy." Luis patted his head.

"Damn you and your mind games, Mendoza," Averman muttered. But he drank the soup.

Thank Yous:

Carla: Thanks for the extensive beta, the super confidence boost and the very kind way you phrased all your beta-ing. *feeds Terri a handful of colons, both regular and semi* As always, you rock.

Britts: Throw the book at that plant! Who cares what the teacher says? Go on. If you get told off, tell them that Averman made you do it.

lycanthrope: Axl is not my man. Duff is, then Gilby. Axl is third on the list. *sighs* Am I just a Gn'R slut? I am, aren't I? Oh well, better them than some teenybopper boyband. *winces* Oooh, I get a tribute? That sounds good. The rain thing in this chapter is kind of a nod to you, although I kinda had it in mind before I read your stuff, but reading it in your fic inspired me. I'm working my way towards yuccas, drunkenness and parties. *grins* Fluff ahoy, Cap'n!

Flat*Out*Crazy: You had a sucky day? Glad that Shoebox cheered you up. The chapters will be back to fluffy nonsense soon, so that's even cheerier.

Kristine: Feel free to keep rambling, I like it. My theory is that Banksie gets enough angst (or Bangst as Charisma and I called it during the awards in June) during the movies, and the rest of the characters really need a turn at it.

anne918: *grins* Glad you're liking the story. I was worried that the odd pairing would squick people. Gabby (who gave me the idea) is a genius.

Charisma: *hugs* I never have anything clever to say to you. I keep worrying that you'll trade me in for a more intelligent model. I'm glad you're still reading this. I can't wait for Razor to hit the net and be ripped to shreds. I really must email Eriks. (I love you more)

Meme: Nope, didn't kill any plants in that chapter. Nor this one. Next chapter, I promise. Plant attacks, soup, ice cream, and a "bad bad man"

Popcicle Babe: I think Luis/Averman is a new pairing, I can't take credit for it though, Gabby came up with it and I wanted to write it. I'm glad you're enjoying, and very glad that everyone is in character still. *sigh of relief*

Q: Did you step into Bill today? And I'm glad that he likes it too, it's always worrying trying to win over new people on strange pairings. Have you and Bill divided up your room with duct tape yet? Keep me posted.

Bella7: Glad you're liking this. *grins* Averman is a good favourite to have, he's so entertaining.

Bubblegirl: I think anyone can convincingly get together if enough thought is put into it. Someone asked me to beta a surprising pairing. I would never have seen it before I read the chapter, but it makes sense (I won't share the details since the fic doesn't belong to me). If a writer puts enough effort into a fic, it should come across as natural and convincing. I hope that's what I'm doing. God bless my beta.

Melissa: Thanks for the feedback, here's the update! Keep reading and I'll keep writing.