Lucky Me

Chapter 97


"Come over here so I can hurt you."

"Such a tempting offer, and under your hands I'm sure it'd be fun but," he sighed wistfully, "but, no."

I was back at the balance bar, trying to use my nonexistent heat vision to melt my self-proclaimed teacher of balance since Mr. Kurt and Mr. Warren had gone on a mission. I came—home yesterday and bright and early this morning I found myself ungracefully dumped in the weight room. When the fuzz had been scraped off my brain, I saw Bobby smiling (smirking with good intent) at me when he told me to walk.

In the past two hours the only thing productive I'd done was come up with several different ways to hurt him. I gripped the bar and tried repeatedly but it just wasn't working without the bar. Fake walk I could do, but the full, actual walking? Forget it. Mr. Warren offered that besides my 'attitude' my arms were still sore even after healing from my wing loss.

Did this guy care?

The way he kept taunting me made me think probably not.

"You're a real creep you know."

"I'm a caring creep." He shrugged and started to flip through the newspaper (probably from a week ago or something).

"If you aren't going to do anything, then why don't you just leave?" The words came out harsh but I was tired and increasingly sore.

"Because you'd just sit on the floor feeling sorry for yourself if I left." He gave me a look, "and besides, if I'm here spurning you on to a criminal offense, you might actually want to walk to strangle me. As you keep threatening."

I hauled myself to my feet again, steadied while my eyes never left him. "You seem in a hurry to be in pain."

He had the nerve to smirk. "You can barely walk, I don't think it would be too hard to out distance you."

"You are not an encouragement," I ground out, taking a shaking step while my hand was still locked around the bar.

"I'm meant to be annoying, not encouraging." He flipped the page, "And since you moved a foot in an hour, I'm doing a pretty good job."

"And if I sit here and refuse to do anything?"

"I'll get the cattle prod." He took one look at my shocked face and cracked up. "Learn to take a joke, Summers."

One more step.

"I got butchered, ha ha." All humor left the room. "And now I have to relearn to live. Oh, hahaha." Another step. "I can take that joke." Another shaky step, hand only hovering above the bar. "I'm living that joke."

"Kerry…"

"And I'm about to add homicide to my punch line." I gave him a wicked smile. The tension eased up.

"Oh come, Kerry. Your stubborn. Use it." When he flipped open his paper and held it in front of his face, I took off my shoe and threw it at him. It connected with him, right in the torso. "Hey!"

I stuck my tongue out, he rolled his eyes and my torture continued.

I woke up that night to someone shaking me. All I could remember from my dream was that someone had been trying to drown me. They were holding me down and pushing my head further and further into the water…my lungs were like sponges, taking in so much…

Was it any wonder why I decked Bobby after a dream like that?

He was trying to wake me up when I, still half in a dream, lashed out and sent him into the wall. When the water disappeared and the air came into my lungs I knew something was wrong. Better to say, something wasn't wrong.

Blinking the sleep from my eyes, I blearily made out the form of Bobby groaning and slumped on what had been my computer desk.

"Bobby!" I gulped, scrambling out of bed (only to forget I couldn't walk and ended up more or less staggering and falling to and on him). "I'm so sorry!"

"Y-you were right." He smiled weakly. "As soon as I got near you, you'd hurt me."

Though I was worried, I couldn't help but laugh.

"What were you doing in here?"

"You were screaming like a cat shoved into an oven." He explained, clambering to his feet. After he was semi-steady, he helped me to my feet and helped me back to my bed.

"Why do I have a feeling you are speaking from experience?"

He smirked.

I thought he was just going to 'tuck' me into bed, but then he got in the bed and I just blinked at him as if I was hallucinating. "Uh…"

"I'm not going to lose any more sleep because you keep screaming. Since you got hurt, I've been sleeping so light that when your cat sneezes, it wakes me up." He frowned a bit, "and Lucy had a cold."

"That would explain why you shoved him in the oven."

He grinned. "I never said I did that."

I laid down on my stomach. Laying on my back still scared me. My wings were still supposed to be there, not having them there was creepy. I buried my face in my pillow and pretended they were still there, twitching with exhaustion after flying with Mr. Warren all day, but it didn't work.

I could dream of flying every night, but it didn't stop me from waking up and having to face the reality that I lost them for good.

I was never meant to be an angel.

"This is inhumane!" I pounded my fists on the floor and yelled for all I was worth. Bobby chuckled like the creep he was. "This is wrong!" I screamed again.

"Then, again, come and get me."

"I can't!" I grumbled, pulling the towel closer around me. "You are a complete and utter pervert!"

"And yet you love me." He taunted from somewhere down the dark stair well. "The only way to get to me is to get up and walk down."

"You could get in so much trouble if Scott was here!" I threatened, he snorted. Oh yeah, that's mature. Try to get phantom dad to back me up. Sheesh, I'd become pathetic. This creep had thrown all my clothes down the steps into the laundry room. Then, after he stated as such I stumbled my way to the elevator to get to the ground floor, he ran down the basement stairs, and started to taunt me.

"Give me my clothes! This is illegal!" I was frustrated, and normally I liked our twisted little game but this was going a tad too far.

"Nah, nah!" He shot back.

My head was throbbing already because of this little incident, and the more upset I became, the harder it was to fight off my migraine. I'd been having them less frequently, either that or I had grown accustomed to the constant throbbing and ache. Like a rock finally coming to a rest at the bottom of a dark, scary lake.

I was on my knees, one hand grasping my towel, the other holding the door knob. I felt the usual jerk of my body, then the haziness in my sight and I knew what was going to come next. Two seconds later, the yellow towel I was protecting my modesty was soaking up a small droplet of blood.

My nose was bleeding again.

It was the last thing I remember before I passed out again.

"Nnngh," smart, intelligent words. Just wish I knew what language it was. Instantly I knew I wasn't laying on the ground in front of the laundry dungeon. Sitting up wearily, I pressed a hand to my forehead, the traces of my recent brain squeeze were still there, but less intense.

"I wouldn't move too much more, if you want to keep a clean reputation." Bobby's voice was teasing, but there was genuine concern in it as well.

That's when it dawned on me that I was still, roughly, wearing my towel and laying in my bed. With an 'eep' I quickly dropped to my back and had my comforter up to my nose, eyes wide and waiting to adjust to the dark.

"How long have you been having your nose bleeds?" Bobby came from the dark corner he was lurking in and sat beside me.

My natural instinct was to lie to him. There's no reason for him to worry over something pointless like my nose bleeding. It was just an after effect of being raped of my wings.

"Just this one."

His eyes cut me deep. "You're lying."

I gave him a flat stare. "That's your opinion and you have no way to prove that I'm lying."

He threw something at me, and after carefully feeling it I determined it was come clothes. I told him to get out and he agreed as I dressed. Once I was finished, I let my shoulders sag. It was hard trying to shoulder the world, but I still had to smile. Still had to make sure they didn't hurt.

So with a sleepy smile, I laid back down on my bed (only I realized it wasn't my bed, but his) and called him back in. It didn't take us long to settle into one another and fall asleep. Anything was better than him asking those dumb questions I couldn't answer.

_

There was something to be said about little voices running around, hopping, and screaming like banshees in your mind. I stirred around three in the morning (I know this because I checked the clock, groaned and decided to go back to sleep). It never once occurred to me that I might have been woken up due to some foreign noise in the middle of the night.

I felt Bobby's warm arm draped across my back, and felt safe enough to ignore the growing commotion.

Just as I was about to go cloud hopping once again, it hit me.

There were other voices in the hall and they were only coming closer.

Panic wrapped it's arms around me and giggled madly in my lap. Flipping over, Bobby's arm was around my waist when it happened. He pulled me closer, his lips right next to my neck. That was the last moment of sanity.

The door opened like the gates of hell were coming to call but trust me a demon would have been more pleasant. Because of who came through that door was the last one who needed to see me tangled up in my boyfriend's arms, with his clothes on (found this out later) and him with no shirt on.

Bobby sat bolt upright, I tried to hide in the sheets as Scott stood in the doorway. His mouth was open, his visor glowing menacingly and then it hit him. Oh man, did it ever.

"What the hell do you think you're doing with my daughter, Drake!"