A/N: Ha! You all thought I forgot about this didn't you? Well I didn't, I've just been really, really busy for the last several months, and then there's the fact that I had no idea where this story was going to be going until about a month ago. Then I actually took the time to outline it, and just wrote this over the last two days. So hopefully (do note the hopefully) updates will be a bit more frequent than…every four months. I shall also take this moment to give Diminished9th/VanillaBean the biggest shout out ever for her constant badgering, pestering, prodding, and beta-ing. That's really the only way this ever got done.
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II - Limbo
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As the sun continued to rise, Grace soon remembered why she hated early mornings, and why she hated the location of the make out spot she'd chosen. Sure, it was safe and secluded and no one would be able to spot them there, but what she didn't know at the time was how, in order to get there in the mornings, she would have to walk directly into the path of the rising sun. She had to admit, the warm breeze was pretty refreshing, but she wasn't sure if the blindness that would result from staring at the sun would really make it worth it.
She pulled her old lighter out of her pocket and began to flick the lid open and closed against the side of her leg as she walked on. The sound of the metal clinking against itself was a welcomed distraction to the usual sounds of early morning Arcadia. The busses were making their runs, picking people up and dropping them off at their various locations, all while spewing an endless cloud of pollution into the air. Individual motorists were honking their horns and yelling obscenities at the backup of traffic. Police sirens were already being heard down the street. For a mid-sized city in the middle of Maryland, Arcadia was fairly active in the early morning.
As Grace continued walking down the sun soaked street, she noticed a small flashing light in the distance. As she got closer, she squinted her eyes and used her hand to shield the sun from her line of sight in order to investigate what was going on. There was an ambulance in front of the coffee shop across the street from where she was meeting her…whatever he was. The lights were flashing in perfect synchronization with the other sounds of the morning. There was an almost hypnotic quality to the flashing spectacle, and Grace soon found herself staring blankly into them as the rest of her surroundings seemed to disappear from around her.
-
The cold November wind blew softly as Grace walked with Adam to his house that evening. She was planning on staying there as long as she possibly could. She'd had an argument with her father that morning and quite frankly, she felt like avoiding him for as long as humanly possible. She didn't feel the need to talk to Adam about it, she didn't have to. The look of concern that appeared on his face when she'd showed up at his door in the actual AM hours on a Saturday morning was enough to tell her that he already knew. They had a sort of psychic connection brought on by a decade of friendship, a bond that neither of them thought could ever be broken.
She pulled her old lighter out of her pocket as they walked, flipping the lid open and closed with a flick of her wrist as they continued on down the sidewalk. Adam glanced over at her when he heard the sound of the metal clinging against itself, but did nothing but shake his head and let out a small laugh.
"What?" Grace asked when she realized his amusement.
"Nothing," he smiled. "I thought your mom took that thing away?"
"She did," Grace answered, striking the igniter against her jeans causing the wick to light up. "But she's been too…preoccupied lately to notice I took it back."
"Oh," Adam nodded with a silent understanding. He didn't pressure her to go on any farther, just continued walking by her side so she would know he was there if she did decided to continue.
The two of them ventured on down the sidewalk in silence, neither of them doing anything but losing themselves in their own thoughts. Adam had been worried about Grace lately. For the past couple of years her father had been on her case about studying for her Bat Mitzvah, whatever that was. He wasn't really sure, and he never asked, he just knew that Grace didn't want anything to do with it. Now that she was twelve, her father was really getting on her about it. Of course, she countered that by objecting more strongly than ever, driving a wedge between them that her father brushed off as normal teenage behavior, but Adam knew she saw it as much more than that. He knew that was why she had been spending so much time at his house recently. That, and problems with her mother that she never wanted to talk about, but Adam knew anyway. He never said anything, but he could see exactly what Grace saw; her family was falling apart. Her life was crashing down all around her and no one wanted to notice. He knew there wasn't anything he could do to help, except be there for her when she'd let him. It was moments like that which made him grateful for his own family.
As they neared Adam's house, Grace noticed a flashing red glow in the distance. "Dude, what is that?" she asked, pointing out her observation.
He squinted his eyes to get a better look, even though he knew it wouldn't really help. "I don't know. It looks like an ambulance."
"It looks like…" she paused for a moment, as realization set in and she recalled the events that took place just a couple of days before. Her conversation with Mrs. Rove, the things she had said, and the promise she had her make. "It's coming from your house."
They both exchanged quick glances of worry before simultaneously taking off towards the Rove residence. They ran as fast as they could, Adam gaining a steady lead on Grace. She noticed him come to an abrupt stop once he reached his front lawn. She pushed herself to gain speed and caught up with him just in time to see a familiar figure being carried out of the house on a backboard. Mr. Rove followed the paramedics out of the house, the worry and fear tremendously evident on his face, expressed in every one of his features. It was then Grace pieced together exactly what had happened. She wasn't sure how, but she knew. She knew that was what Mrs. Rove was talking about when she had her make that promise just a couple days earlier.
"Adam, we have to go." Mr. Rove's brusque voice trembled as he grabbed his son by the arm. He opened the passenger door of his car for Adam as the ambulance pulled away. Grace couldn't move. She could only watch as Mr. Rove helped Adam in the car, both looking so scared, so completely terrified it may have broken her heart, if her own fears hadn't already. "Grace," she heard Mr. Rove call out. She looked to see that he already had the back door open for her to join them. She thought about telling him not to worry, that she would just walk home and tell her parents what happened and maybe they would take her to the hospital later, but something about the look on his face made her go with them. She climbed into the old station wagon as they took off after the ambulance.
They were about halfway to the hospital before Grace realized that she'd dropped her lighter somewhere between the place where they'd noticed the flashing lights and the Rove's house. She didn't care. She was too riddled with worry and guilt and fear to think about a rusted piece of chrome with a cotton core. Though at that moment, she would have given anything to have been holding it in her hands, the wick bright with the red-orange glow of the flame, herself lost in the elegant chaos of it all. Instead, her mind was free to focus on everything that lay before her. She knew what news they would be receiving at the hospital. She knew that night Adam's life would change forever, and she knew that meant hers would too. She wouldn't be able to go to his house to escape her own anymore, she would only be able to go be reminded of what they'd both lost. But she couldn't run from it like everything else in her life. She would still have to go because she made a promise, and Grace Polk didn't break promises.
-
Grace had been so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't notice when the familiar figure approached her from across the street. Her eyes remained transfixed on the flashing lights in front of her, just as her thoughts remained transfixed on the memory forcing itself to the surface after years of being buried deep within the stronghold of her mind. Her focus was so intent that she would have never noticed the figure now standing beside her had he not chosen that moment to speak up, causing her to jump slightly, startling her out of her current state of hypnosis.
"Hey, Grace."
"Huh?" she turned to see the face of the boy she was sure would have walked away laughing when she handed him a secrecy contract. But no, he quickly signed it and they'd been meeting at the abandoned café ever since. "How long have you been here?"
"Not long," he answered.
"What happened?" she nodded in the direction of the ambulance.
"I'm not sure. I think someone just collapsed. I was walking down the street and saw a crowd of people standing there trying to help this woman so I went to see if there was anything I could do." She let out a small laugh and shook her head slightly. "What?"
"You are such a cop's kid," she replied, with the perfect mixture of playfulness and seriousness to confuse him. She looked over at him in time to see him nodding in the direction of their hiding place behind the brick wall and start to head over. Her gaze shifted from him to the crowd over beside the ambulance and back again. "No way, dude," she said, without moving from her current location.
"What's wrong?"
"There are way too many people around here."
"But there's a brick wall between us and them. Besides, we don't even know any of these people. And I'm pretty sure the paramedics aren't going to go around telling everyone at Arcadia High they saw us hanging out here."
He sounded frustrated. She knew she wasn't the easiest person to get along with. In fact, she was surprised he'd put up with her as long as he had. She almost wished she could tell him what was going on, why she had chosen to run. But she couldn't. She knew he wouldn't understand, at least not yet. It was then she noticed the slight look of hurt that had found its way to his eyes. She sighed before offering up her compromise. "Ten minutes after school."
He stood there for a few moments in consideration. "Okay, fine," he said with a hint of a smile, "if five of those minutes can be a conversation."
She shook her head in slight amusement. He had to be the only fifteen year old guy on the planet who would trade five minutes of make-out time for five minutes of talking. "Sure, you can tell me about superstring theory," she replied with a hint of sarcasm. She watched as he smiled and took off. Once he was out of sight, her gaze once again returned to the ambulance. The lights still flashed as the paramedics were now loading their patient into the back. Grace watched as the crowd began to disperse, giving the ambulance room to take off whenever it was ready. As soon as their cargo was secure, the paramedics jumped into the ambulance and took off, blaring its sirens as it sped straight into the blinding sun.
-
It was late; the only thing keeping Grace's mind off of the news she knew they'd all be receiving soon was the quiet humming of the florescent lights accompanied by the various beeps and drones of the emergency room. None of them had any idea how long Adam's mother had been unconscious, just that Mr. Rove had found her when he returned home that evening. No matter how much she tried to silently talk herself out of it, Grace felt a rush of guilt overcoming her. It was her fault. She knew something was going on with Mrs. Rove when she was asked to make that promise, but she didn't tell anyone. Though, it wasn't like she had someone she could have talked to. Her parents would've told her she was making something out of nothing. Mr. Rove would have laughed, ruffled her hair, and told her she was crazy. If she had asked Mrs. Rove, she knew she would have denied anything was going on at all. And she couldn't tell Adam; she wouldn't. She knew the moment she made that promise that it was one thing she'd never let him in on. She was his guardian now, or she would be soon. It was her job to protect him. Telling him that she knew something was wrong with his mother, letting him know that everything that happened that night was all her fault for not telling someone, that would crush him.
She'd begun staring at the ceiling, counting each individual spec in the texture of the tiles just to keep her mind occupied. Her hands would either involuntarily rub against each other or start drumming out random beats on the arm of the chair, anything to keep themselves occupied with the absence of her lighter. She needed it then more than she ever had. She needed the feel of the cold chrome slowly heating, becoming warm against her palm as the fire kept burning. She needed the warmth of the flame radiating onto her to face, even if it burnt her eyes sometimes. She needed that warmth there, in the middle of the hospital. The waiting room was cold and sterile. Everything surrounding her was a shade of blue or gray, almost as if a filter had been placed over the entire room. If the entire place would've burst into flames right then, she wouldn't have cared.
She pulled her attention away from the ceiling long enough to glance over at Adam. He was just as she'd expected he'd be. Crying, shaking, worried. She wanted to do something; she had to. She just had no idea what it was supposed to be. Telling him everything would be okay wouldn't work. They both knew better than that. It was then she noticed a doctor coming out from behind a pair of double doors that led to the trauma rooms. She knew he was meant for them. The waiting room was empty except for them, and some kid who'd been bitten by a dog that was still sitting there waiting to see someone. She watched as Mr. Rove rose slowly from his seat and quietly walked in the direction of the doctor. Adam also watched through tear-filled eyes as Grace prepared herself for what was about to come.
As Mr. Rove talked to the doctor, Grace noticed his posture worsen, his features slowly letting themselves be overrun by grief and anguish. When he fully turned around to head back toward them, she saw that a couple stray tears had found their way down his face. She'd never seen Mr. Rove cry, always thought of him as too tough for that sort of thing. But she knew how much he loved his wife; how much everyone loved her. How much she had loved Grace. Mrs. Rove had been like a mother to her, always there when she needed help with math homework or a ride home from someplace when her mother 'forgot,' or just when she needed someone to believe in her. She didn't know what she was supposed to do now, who was supposed to tell her everything would work out, who would be there on that rare occasion when her troubles got to be too much to bare.
Her own worries soon ceased as she looked over to Adam. He was in worse shape than before. His quiet tears from before had turned into fairly loud sobs as the true realization that he would never see his mother again set in. Grace knew she couldn't comfort him, she wasn't going to try to fake it. She just needed to be there, to let him know that she was. She couldn't hug him, it would be too much. She'd made it without crying so far, and she wasn't about to let herself break down on him. She had to be strong, to remain dry eyed as if this loss didn't affect her as it did. He'd just lost his mother, she still had hers, in a matter of speaking. He was allowed to cry, to hurt, but it was her job to make sure she didn't do the same. It would be selfish. She did the only thing she could bring herself to do without shedding any tears and slowly reached out and put her hand on his shoulder.
Adam looked over at her, his eyes like two miniature fountains as the tears continued to fall. Grace swallowed and blinked back her own tears as best she could while tightening her grip on his shoulder, just to let him know she was still there. As Mr. Rove was asked to go complete some forms, the two remained there in complete silence, except for Adam's sobs that had become slightly muffled as buried his head in his hands.
-
Grace slowly blinked away the slight burning sensation left in her eyes by the brightness of the sun before turning around and heading toward the school. As she walked, she kept her eyes mostly on the ground, watching her shadow move in front of her. As she made her way closer to the school, the sounds of downtown Arcadia began to slowly fade and soon she was walking through the residential streets in complete silence except for the occasional passing car or bus making its morning rounds. She began flipping her lighter in her hand once again. She had never been quite sure what it was about the simple sound of the metal clinging against itself that always kept her so intrigued. Perhaps it was the perfect rhythm that it always seemed to keep, or maybe it was more of its being a constant reminder that she held in her hand a catalyst for the creation of one of the most destructive forces known to man. Whatever it was, it served to speed the passage of time as she made her way to the daily prison known as Arcadia High.
She reached the school just in time to hear the fifteen minute warning bell ring from inside the building. As she crossed the street, she made sure to avoid stepping in the puddles by the sidewalks that were still there from the rain of the a couple of days earlier. The smell of wet cement still lingered in the air combined with the smell of the dried and dying leaves that were already starting to fall from the trees. It was as if fall decided to arrive early, but summer wasn't quite ready to leave.
Upon making her way to the lawn in front of the school, Grace was overcome by the smell of the warm mud that was scattered about in pools all across the turf. Most of the other students were avoiding the lawn at all costs, walking out of their way to use the main walk leading up to the stairs at the entrance of the building. She continued on her present course, not because she was in any hurry really, but more so because she was just too apathetic to care if a little mud found its way onto her already dirty boots. As she crossed the lawn, she realized that some of the pools of muck were a little deeper than she'd initially thought they'd be, causing her to actually have to put forth a little effort to make it across the lawn. The warm breeze from earlier in the morning had returned, leaving her with an all too familiar feeling as she trekked forth toward the school's entrance.
-
The cold wind was callous blowing against her face as Grace slowly made her way down the sidewalk toward the Rove residence. The past several days had been awful and the night air offered little solace. As much as she tried to will it in another direction, her mind continued to flow back to the events of the previous few days. Mrs. Rove was gone. She hadn't realized until it was too late how much her friend's mother had come to mean to her. At first, she was merely the woman who would sit and watch them play in the park. As they grew older and closer, she became the woman who would drive them for ice cream and walk with them down to the sewers where they'd race paper boats and let them build forts in her living room, not really caring how much of a mess they made. Mrs. Rove had always let Grace come over to their house to hang out, and Grace had always been fine with that. Even when she was younger, she knew there was something wrong with her mother and she liked to keep people's interactions with her to a minimal.
Mrs. Rove always understood that. Grace wasn't sure how, but she figured Mrs. Rove somehow knew about her own mother. She was and adult, and adults always seemed to get those kind of things about each other. She'd been the one adult that Grace had actually trusted, the only one that ever told her things would work out, that she had the potential to be something great. She'd always said stuff like that about her son and his friend. But those moments were gone, and Grace knew she had to push them to the back of her mind if she was ever going to be able to help Adam through this. She couldn't let him see that it tore her apart just as much as it did him.
When she finally reached the house, she made her way up to the front door through the lawn. It was soggy, still wet from the rain the day before, the day of the funeral. It had been sunny all morning and throughout the service as well. Grace remembered thinking about how strange it was that the day could be so bright, so cheery, and yet there they were burying one of the few people on this planet she had actually cared about. It was like the universe's cruel attempt at irony. It ended soon though; the clouds set in and began to storm shortly after the funeral was over. Mr. Rove had invited Grace to come back to their house that evening. He told her family would be over and that Adam would probably need someone to keep him company. Grace declined; it had taken too much for her to keep herself composed during the funeral, there was no way she'd be able to pull it off at their house. Mr. Rove seemed to understand though, and told her to stop by whenever she felt comfortable. Of course, she still didn't feel comfortable, but she knew she had to see Rove, had to be there for him. She had promised, and she wasn't about to back down, no matter how hard it was.
She reached the front porch and quietly knocked on the door. Before, she had been told to just come in whenever she got there. It was like an open invitation extended to her by every member of that household. They had told her she was like family, there was no need for the formality of knocking. But a lot had changed in the last few days, and for some reason she knew it wouldn't feel right to just open the door and walk in. Mr. Rove answered the door before long. He looked pleased to see her. She pasted on the closest thing she could to a smile. "Uh, hey."
"Hey, Grace," he replied, his gruff voice even rougher than usual, as if his throat has been wiped dry. "How are you holding up?"
He sounded genuinely sincere, but Grace didn't want to tell him that she felt like hell when his wife had died, so she answered him only with a small nod. She knew he understood. "Uh, where's Adam?" she asked, after a few moments of deafening quiet.
Carl smiled as best he could. "He's out in the shed."
"Okay." She felt as though there was something else she should say, but she wasn't sure what it would be. Certainly no words could make that situation better; they both knew that. She nodded again as she left the porch and made her way to the shed at the back of the house.
As she walked around the house, she kept her eyes to the ground, unconsciously scouting around for the lighter she'd lost a few days before. She wouldn't have cared so much, but she'd been uneasy beyond the point of her own belief and needed to feel the calming effect the flame always seemed to have on her. She needed to just lose herself in the warm glow of the mini inferno. She stopped looking once she reached the shed. The light was on, glowing through the window, through the beads of water that still clung to it, causing the light to refract as though shining through a prism. She thought for a moment that he might be working; he'd done that a lot over the past couple years, lock himself in the shed with pieces of sheet metal and a blow torch. He could come up with the strangest looking things, none of which she ever understood. She figured that was why she liked them so much.
She stood at the door for a few minutes, silently debating whether or not to knock. When she didn't hear any tools clanking or sparks flying from the blow torch, she decided to knock. Ordinarily, as with his house, she'd have had no fear in just opening the door and walking in. That was how it worked with them. But it didn't feel right that night, and it wouldn't feel right again. She knocked on the door, quietly at first, but when there was no answer she knocked harder. Again, there was no answer. "Rove," she knocked again, "your dad told me you're in here." It was the first time she'd actually spoken to him since the day his mother died. Any other time she had seen him after that, they simple sat or stood in silence.
When there was still no answer, she gave up. "Okay, well," she said through the closed door, "I'm out here." With that she took a seat on the cold ground, not really caring how muddy it was, and leaned back against the side of the shed. She knew if he wanted to talk he would open the door, but she also somehow knew that he wouldn't.
-
Grace finally made it across the quagmire in front of the school and made her way up the front steps, leaving a trail of muddy footprints all along the stairs. When she reached the door she noticed Adam standing off to the side looking in her direction. "What are you doing out here?" she asked. He shrugged. "Party girl run off with your girlfriend again?" She kicked her foot across the cement terrace in an attempt to wipe the mud from the bottom of her boots.
Adam gave a small, amused smile as he walked over. "Yeah, probably." As the two of them headed into the building, Grace tucked her lighter up into her fist to hide it from the security guard as he swiped them both quickly with his wand. She had noticed how the school's security measures had been reduced almost drastically since late last year. The metal detectors had been completely removed and were replaced by two or three uniformed security guards swiping students with their wands as they entered the building. It certainly wasn't ideal, but it did feel a little less violating than having to remove her navel ring every time she walked into the building.
"You don't have any coffee."
"What?" Grace looked over, almost surprised to see Rove keeping pace with her. She would have figured he'd have taken off to find Girardi as soon as they walked through the door.
"Earlier you said you were gonna go get some coffee. You don't have any," he pointed out.
"I…" she hesitated, silently cursing Rove's eidetic memory. "I changed my mind."
"Cool," he answered calmly.
"It's like you said," she continued, as if he hadn't said a word, "like I'm gonna support some overpriced, big name corporation that profits from the efforts of overworked, underpaid employees for no greater purpose than pocketing America's money and turning caffeine into another Hollywood trend."
Adam couldn't help but let out a small laugh. "Of course not."
"Are you gainsaying me, Rove?" Grace questioned as they stopped at her locker.
"Gainsay?" Adam's expression turned to complete confusion.
"Because if you are," Grace went on, once again as if Adam hadn't spoken, "you're on your own with Girardi and party girl."
"You wouldn't do that to me," Adam smiled.
"Wanna bet?" Grace turned to face Adam. She tried to glare, but she'd found out a long time ago that it was next to impossible to keep a straight face while glaring at Rove.
"Right." Adam's smile slowly faded as he remembered what he had wanted to talk to Grace about earlier that morning. "Listen, Grace," he started carefully, knowing she probably wouldn't let him get many words in after she saw the direction he was taking. "At Judith's party…"
"I already told you, I talked to Girardi a few days ago," Grace interrupted. "She said you made up, and by what I've seen, it looks like you have, too. And y'know, I'm getting really tired of playing messenger for you two." She crammed her bag into her locker, taking out the books she needed for her first class.
"That's not what I meant. I meant…well," he took a breath, "when you found Judith…when you saved her…"
"I don't want to talk about that, Rove," Grace interrupted, slamming her locker.
"Okay." Adam decided not to press on. He'd learned that when Grace didn't want to talk about something, she didn't talk about it. "I've gotta go get Jane," he said as he began to walk away. When he'd taken a few steps he turned around and called back. "Hey! We'll walk with you to physics. Wait here!"
Grace waved him off and leaned back against her locker, slamming her head against the cold metal. She closed her eyes and crammed her hands in her pockets, still flipping the lid of her lighter from within.
-
Grace once again sat alone on the cold ground outside of the Rove's shed. That had been her routine for the past several nights. She would go there sometime in the evening when she knew Adam was home, knock on the door, not be granted an answer, and sit down and make a bed on the ground by the door. She didn't know why she continued to do this, why she'd continue to spend the entire night on the ground outside his shed. Mr. Rove had seen her out there every night, and every night he would call her parents to let them know where she was. And every day her parents would question why she kept going over there when it was clear that Adam needed time. She never told her parents about the promise she'd made to his mother. She knew there was no way they could possibly understand.
The breeze had picked up and Grace pulled her jacket tighter around her to protect herself from the cold wind. She figured it had to be around thirty degrees outside. That wasn't too unusual for Maryland in the end of November, but that didn't make her hate it any less. She could hear her own teeth chattering as the wind blew her hair around her face. She'd tried pushing it back behind her ears, but that did no good as the wind continued to blow it back in front of her eyes. She could barely see Mr. Rove as he approached, mug in hand.
"Hey, Grace," he greeted. She nodded to return the greeting. "I, uh, brought you some coffee," he indicated the mug. "You drink that, right?"
"Yeah, sure." She straightened herself up and took the mug from Mr. Rove. "It's warm, right?"
Carl smiled lightly and nodded. He turned and started to take a step away before turning back around. "Why do you keep doing this?" he asked curiously. "You're going to get yourself sick, y'know."
"Yeah, I know."
"So…" he hesitated. "Why?"
Grace thought for a moment. She wasn't even sure why she kept doing this, just that she knew she made that promise to Adam's mother. She had said she'd be there for him, and she wanted to make sure she would be. "I just…" she answered finally. "I have to be."
