Chapter 6
A/N: Sorry for such a long pause. Blame it on class, homework, writer's block, and illness all at one time. Hope it was worth the wait!
Chapter 6
Blackheart arrived at his new apartment just as night was beginning to fall. The first thing he did was step in the shower and scrub the coffee smell off as best as he could. The old sheets had been tossed out and new ones put on the bed, so it was definitely more inviting. He spent a couple of hours going through more stuff that he'd decided to get rid of, then flopped face-first into it. It felt good to not hear the noise of the restaurant anywhere around him and his eyes didn't take long to close.
But her face lingered there in his mind's eye, like it had since the day he'd first met her. He was too tired to even groan, so he let sleep sweep him away into a dream.
Dawn was sitting on a park bench, Squishie at her side as usual. Her belly had grown huge over the months, adding to her curvaceous figure. She had her chin resting in one hand, looking very lost. Curious as to what she was thinking about, he came closer.
"What am I going to do now? My life is over before it started," Dawn sighed, "I've finished school, but no one's going to hire a single mother. My job at the coffee shop isn't going to support both of us."
He didn't know what to say. She looked so sad and it just wasn't like her. He sat down beside her and wrapped one arm around her shoulders, although he mentally chewed himself out for doing it. She leaned in to his awkward touch.
Upon waking, he didn't remember the dream, fortunately. It was nice to be here in the morning instead of Pam's. Despite so many years of constantly hearing screams and noises of torture, he actually didn't mind those things being gone. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it, he was getting used to the routine. He knew exactly what to do and where to go, so his actions became almost automatic.
Upon entering the coffee shop, he was greeted by a very hyper Squishie. She kept jumping up at his leg as though she had springs in her butt. Then, she ran around in circles. Dawn shook her head as she continued to sketch a plate of cookies on the chalkboard.
"Squishie somehow got into the coffee," she said without looking up, "she's going to be wound up the rest of the day."
First, she ran one direction. Then, she ran the other way. The tiled floor was too slick for the little rat, so she couldn't stop fast enough and skidded into a table leg. Squishie simply sat there for a moment, dazed, then she shook her head and was off again. Blackheart couldn't resist a chuckle. He'd never seen anything move like that before.
Dawn finished the sketch of cookies. They looked very realistic for being chalk.
"Why are you wasting your time in a place like this?" he couldn't help but ask. Dawn turned, surprised.
"I could ask you the same thing," she replied before going back into the kitchen.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he mumbled. He heard the static of the radio and Dawn's singing started as soon as she got a clear signal.
She should be on a stage somewhere, not in this dump, Blackheart thought. He suddenly had an idea and went to go talk to their less-than-desirable manager.
It took him a good half hour to wear the idiot down, but he finally agreed to it when Blackheart said it was likely that Dawn would bring in more money. That was the easy part. Now, however, he still had to talk Dawn into it and he knew that she was far more stubborn.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he definitely didn't expect her to grab him by the front of his shirt and slam him into the wall.
"What the Hell gives you the right to do that?! The least you could have done was ask me first!" she snarled.
I sure hope it's the pregnancy hormones and not how she usually is, he thought.
"I'm trying to help you," he said, trying to pull loose from her supernaturally tight grip.
"Sure you are," Dawn snapped, shoving him away, "just like all the other men in my life have 'tried to help me'. I'm not a trophy, you know!"
"You're right," he said quickly, "you're much more than that."
He said it before he even felt the words forming at the base of his tongue. Dawn stared at him, shocked.
"I still don't believe you," she stuttered before turning back to the grill. Her hand landed on her slightly swollen stomach.
Finally! I was wondering how soon she was going to find that out, he thought.
"Fine. Don't believe me. But you know yourself that your talent's being wasted back here," he said, walking away.
Dawn stared after him. Since he'd found her unconscious in the alley, he'd been acting really strange. It was as though he was trying to be more protective of her. She appreciated it, but it sometimes drove her nuts.
Her nasty mood lifted when she saw that one of their customers was Johnny Blaze. He was older, yes, but she'd taken a liking to him. Sometimes she was sure he liked her back. Even though Linda was waitressing today, Dawn made a point of bringing Blaze's food out to him. Blackheart scowled from behind the counter.
He heard Blaze extend a dinner invitation and that was the last straw. Stalking towards them, he mumbled something to Dawn about being needed in the kitchen. Glaring at him suspiciously, she obeyed, but tossed Blaze a bright, blushing smile over her shoulder. As soon as the door closed, she gave him a searing Look.
"What?!" she snapped.
"Of all the guys on earth, what would you want with him? He's been in and out of jail a bunch of times!"
Blackheart hadn't been lying; Johnny was often in and out of jail when his Ghost rider powers got the better of him.
"Big deal," Dawn snorted, "I'm sure you're no saint, either. By the way, why do you care about who I go out with? You couldn't stand me the second you met me."
Part of that was true, he hated to admit it.
"I'm the only one who knows what you're capable of," he said through partially gritted teeth.
Dawn's arm twitched and he thought she was going to smack him for a minute. She didn't however, and instead took her aggression on a hamburger she'd started frying. She pressed it to the grill with far more force than was necessary. It sizzled sinisterly.
"Don't talk about me like that," she snapped, "I'm not a retarded school kid who needs someone baby-sitting her every move."
"Does he know you're pregnant?" Blackheart shot back, his own aggression rising in him as well.
A few people turned their heads towards the kitchen. This time, Dawn did smack him. He staggered backward into the wall, his right cheek burning.
"Could you say that a little louder, please? I don't think they heard you in China!" she hissed.
Blackheart's hand gingerly touched his cheek. Dawn's eyes filled with tears.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized quickly, "I've just been under so much pressure lately and-" she paused to flip the meat over before it burned, but she never continued. Blackheart had the strangest urge to embrace her. At first, he fought it. Then, he realized he couldn't. Dawn felt warm and solid in his arms. He got a face full of blonde hair and couldn't help but admit that she smelled good. He thought she was going to start bawling, but she quickly recomposed herself and went back to her job.
Blackheart splashed his face with cold water to take the sting out of his skin. He wondered why in the world he'd just hugged Dawn when she'd hit him. Under normal circumstances, he'd have already killed her whether there was a baby or not.
For her sake, he hoped his little plan worked out.
About fifteen minutes before closing, Dawn gave Blackheart a Look as she approached the microphone stand that Yorke had set out. The music started and Dawn began to sing. Everyone's heads raised, but then they all got a dreamlike look on their faces. They were thoroughly entranced, and rightfully so. Even Squishie was listening intently with her head tilted to the side, one ear up and one ear down. When the song was over, the place burst into applause. Yorke had placed a tip jar by the door and it filled rapidly as the customers began to file out. They had made at least two hundred dollars extra. York divided out the money, of course, taking the biggest share. However, he gave equal shares to Dawn, Linda, and Blackheart. Dawn stared at the bills placed in her hand and her cheeks flushed guiltily when she saw Blackheart's grin.
"Dawn, you'll have to perform at least three times a week now," York sneered, his fat hands clutching the money, "think of all the money we could bring in now."
Dawn sighed. She looked irritated, but she slipped Blackheart a look of gratitude anyway. Then, she left.
He stared after her.
Women made no sense.