Chapter 7: White

Velma felt a child again, lying there on the hard ground, as vulnerable as a bird's wings, wishing more than anything that its hard depths would swallow her up, that something, anything, would take her away somewhere else, anywhere else but there. But she had always secretly known that no matter what she did and how many prayers she said at night like the good little girl she'd never been, she wouldn't go anywhere until she prayed with her legs.

She knew she could pray with her legs all she wanted, but that wouldn't change that her wings were too fragile to fly her anywhere else now, even if she had had a place to go. And her wings knew even before she had admitted it to herself that she couldn't fly away forever. Eventually she had to settle, she had to land. She couldn't run and hide every time her security was ripped from the ground like an oak in the storm. She'd known it all along. And she also knew she couldn't pretend for the life of her that Roxie had never seen her with broken wings.

Roxie saw Velma's internal struggle all too clearly from her position on the floor. She could already see her gates of composure struggling to close, to lock shut and hide her tender heart behind the lifelong lie.

Her face was devoid of emotion as she pried her hands from her chest, but Roxie could still hear her draw in a painful breath at the sight of the blood staining her hands. She wondered if she was in pain over the wound itself or whether she was merely remembering the last time she'd had blood on her hands.

She could see now that the gates had caught a snag. That snag was her, Roxie Hart, sitting there, cradling her broken bird. How she saw right through her, saw how badly she wanted to push her away and how truthfully she knew she couldn't. Not this time at least.

For a long moment, neither of them moved nor spoke. Then Velma finally broke, gave in to the embrace, and silent tears flowed down the brimming black slits that were her eyes and into Roxie's hair. There was no room to be ashamed, no way to stop as she cried out the tears that had been held back by the dam of her lie for too long, cried them out on Roxie's shoulder.

The rare moment was frozen in time, the two women clinging to each other, clinging to all they had left of their crumbling worlds. Something in their lives was finally pure; white thread was woven into the winding tapestries of their time. Velma Kelly had broken, and Roxie was there, holding her together.

But soon her teardrops slowed, her trembling stilled, and the world blurred back into Technicolor. The moment broke, but the feeling never went away. Suddenly, Roxie smiled sheepishly, and her grip loosened.

"We must really look like a pair of dumbbells, lyin' here on the floor and cryin' like no one's business," she said with a soft smile, as she brushed tears from her eyes. She hadn't realized she was crying, too.

Velma gave her a watery smile. "No more than we did a coupla hours ago with sideburns." They both laughed at that. The sound was soft, but you could tell it came from somewhere deep.

Roxie's eyes strayed back onto the cut on Velma's side. It had left a long red shadow across her own pink nightgown. "We really should put somethin' on that." She disappeared into the hotel room's small bathroom and returned with disinfectant and bandages.

Velma allowed herself to be half-carried to the couch by Roxie. For all of her legs and shoulder, she was startlingly light. Roxie began to clean the gaping cut, her eyes still on the older woman. I'm listening.

"Listen, Roxie," Velma began gruffly, the intent of her tone muffled by its faintness, "there's something I need to tell you." Her face softened as Roxie's small hands gently caressed her tender side. Her voice followed suit. "I should've told you this a long time ago, but I guess I'm just gonna have to tell you now."

Roxie didn't speak, but it was clear she was hanging on to every word.

"I grew up in this shithole, and after seventeen years, I'd had enough. I put the petal to the metal and left it all behind me."

Her face grew pained, and Roxie was sure her expression had nothing to do with the sting of the antiseptic. "I can tell ya', I knew then I'd never come back to this godforsaken place." She paused and stared into space with haunted eyes. "Just goes to show how much I know."

Sniff, sniff Isn't that beautiful? I don't know how the bleeding heck I got in such a melodramatic mood (and no, Kit, it wasn't the hypothermia) but I figured I should just take it and run with it. Besides, I was too darn tired after beaching it all day to do anything else. But I just have to say (yes, again), that I completely LOVE all you guys for your reviews and support! God, I sound like I'm accepting an Academy Award or something... But it's true! It's your reviews that inspire me to write, (and yes, make very bad things happen to our innocent characters.) So, guess what I'm going to say next!

You're right! (At least I hope you are, or that would kinda defeat the purpose of this.) If you like, PLEASE REVIEW! Well, I definitely love hearing the sound of my own voice, so I'll let you go before I hurt someone, namely myself, but remember, Miss Coconut wants YOU... to REVIEW!