Spark of Memory

By AshtakRa

Fandom: Skins

Pairing: Tony/Michelle, Tony/Maxxie

Setting: Post season 1

Summary: You know the score, he's been in a coma and has to recover. But just how much of the old Tony remains, and what pieces of his old life will help Tony move on to a new life?

Part 2:

"He woke up Maxxie, did you know?"

"No, that's great… is he – did he?"

"Can't talk much but the doc is doing all these tests and said it looks good, well kind of anyway."

"…"

"Maxxie?"

"Sorry, I'm just…that's great Chris, really."

"Christ Max, you cryin'?"

"No."

"Liar…secrets safe with me though."

"Thanks mate."

"So you gonna come and see him?"

"…"

"Max?"

"I don't think I should."

"Listen, that was weeks ago – at our age that's like a decade or something – she was upset, we all were."

"What she said, maybe it was true."

"You're not pathetic."

"No, I mean maybe without me he got better you know – no conflict or bad zen or something."

"That's just bullshit Maxxie, he almost woke up that first time because you were there."

"No one believes me 'bout that."

"I do, and the doc checked and confirmed it – somethin' bout brain activity."

"I just…I can't Chris."

"C'mon Maxxie, you really think he doesn't want to see ya?"

"It'd cause a scene, he doesn't need that and…and neither does she."

"Fuck me, after what she said? You're a kinder man than I Maxxie boy."

"Just, can you just tell him I'm so happy that he's awake."

"Yeah, you sound it."

"You know what I mean."

"Okay, but promise you'll come."

"…"

"Promise!"

"Yes, okay I promise. Hey Chris."

"Yeah mate."

"Thanks."

SKINSSKINSSKINS

Slipping his phone in with his other stuff Maxxie straightened up and let the warm breeze flow across his arms. He needed to find his centre, find that place where everything else faded away and there was only him, the dance surface and the rhythm.

He didn't need music; it was already playing in his head. Breathing out he lifted one foot, brought it back at an angle and touched toe to knee.

Tony was awake

Flipping the leg out he used the energy to spin around, steadying with his arms and kicking the other leg out, executing the half cart-wheel perfectly and moving on to the heel, toe and knee movement. The moves were mostly his own, worked on from hours everyday in the studio; just him, the floorboards and the beauty of letting go.

Blue eyes, matching his own. The cocky grin and those perfect teeth. He knew how that mouth tasted, how those lips, usually sneering, were so much better against his neck.

Mistimed landing meant falling, hands out to stop and use them to flip over – fantastic, anyone would think it had been planned. Tap the feet, bounce the legs until the balance is back; Maxxie grinned at the smooth execution, even after making a mistake.

Arms around his waist, just harmless touching between friends. He knew better, Tony knew better and knew that he knew. Machiavelli would have loved Tony; why not, everyone else does? A knee against his own in class, hand on his thigh at the pub. That smile that said so much but revealed nothing. Maxxie had fought it and had denied it but how the hell do you fight someone like Tony? He was beautiful, everyone knew that; but also smart, and not just clever but he knew things, about people and about his friends. He knew that Maxxie liked to be bought a drink without asking; that he favoured his left side and avoided people touching his right.

The wind whipped up, blowing his shirt around but he used that to perform the illusion of lifting and hanging in place for just the barest of moments. It was hot, and he could feel the sweat running down his back but it didn't matter, because this was the dance, the thrill and what else mattered?

Tony knew that Maxxie didn't want to be seen as a slut, even if it got him the attention he so craved. After his class admission Tony could have avoided him, made him the social pariah that he thought he deserved to be…but he didn't. He did stop openly flirting with him though, leaving such things for secret private moments and stolen glances. They never did anything, Tony skillfully steering away from any situation and Maxxie outright avoiding it. He liked Tony but he valued his protective band of friends even more. The best way to ruin it all was to make them choose.

Now, the finale, build up the momentum, spin, twist and arms out… his knees hit against the rail and Maxxie looked down. Mr Kharral was right; it was such fucking stupid messed up world.

SKINSSKINSSKINSSKINS

Clipping shut his phone Chris returned to the waiting room and nodded at Sid, who had asked if Maxxie had been told. Anwar would have done it but had been talking with Michelle. The politics of this situation was getting Chris down and he jiggled a pocket, hearing the satisfying rattle of two very high choice pills. This hospital had very lax security; really, one lock for a drug cabinet?

Still, better to wait for later than get off his face now. There was enough shit flying as it was. Tony's parents had repeatedly asked for some of them to stop coming, especially after complaints from other patients. Fuck them, and fuck his parents. They were good enough he supposed, but then what was his basis of comparison?

In turns they had kept coming, all this time and either reading to him, talking or just playing a game of cards on his legs. His parents had to pretty much cop it since the doctors said it was good, that anything familiar was good.

Chris looked at Michelle and made a quick decision. He wasn't Tony, he hated conflict, but enough was enough and the shit had to end. He sauntered over and bumped into Anwar.

"Right."

"Right." Anwar didn't get the hint so Chris tried to be a little less subtle.

"Fuck off 'kay, gotto talk to Chelle."

She glared at him expectantly, probably trying to wonder if he was going to ask for money or drugs, or both. Rattling his stolen bottle Chris put himself back on track.

"So Tony's awake right, and soon everyone's gonna start goin' to say hello," he waved his hand for emphasis but realized it was a pretty crappy hello wave. More like a royal wave than a friend on friend, fuckin' royals – bet they would have top quality…right, Tony, Michelle, Maxxie – gotta fix it.

"Anyways, Tony will then start wondering where certain people are – like if they're not here…but we all are. Right?"

"Chris, what the fuck are you on about?" she said impatiently, her eyebrow rising in annoyance.

Okay, so his suggestive talking skills needed work, but then when the fuck would he ever need them. Point blank, up front – Michelle would appreciate that.

"Maxxie's not here, its your fault and you need to fix it."

Her jaw dropped and the hand went automatically to the hip, giving her best 'entitled stance' as he had once called it, actually he was the only one who called it that.

"My fault?" she hissed. "My fuckin' fault? What drug has screwed your brain that hard to say its my fault?"

"Well," answered Chris, in he fully believed was his most reasonable and calm voice. "You called him a pansy and a slut," he counted them off on his fingers as a shocked room looked on, Michelle's outburst attracting their attention. "According to you Maxxie was nothing more than filthy trash, and some pathetic fag; and then you blamed the accident on him and told him to fuck off."

Michelle blanched and stuck a finger back in Chris' face. "As if you've never said anything like that!"

"I haven't," said Chris instantly then looked thoughtful. "Well maybe I called him a slut and I've told him to fuck off plenty of times – but it's all about," he shaped his hands into a circle. "Context Michelle – you kicked a mate when they were down, and now you have to fix it up."

"Why should I have to do anything?" she hammered back, pushing his chest with the same finger. "Maxxie broke us up, and Tony wouldn't been on that road-."

"Michelle!" shouted Chris, his easy going voice lost as he glared at her, not wanting to put up with this shit for one more moment. "This isn't about you! Its about Tony, and us," he pointed around at everyone. "An' how we're all mates and we don't dump our mates, we just don't." Tears sprung into his eyes as what he said dug deeper into his own experience and by the silence of the room others also noticed the hidden meaning.

Jal walked up and put an arm around him, looking imploringly at Michelle. "He's right 'Chelle, Maxxie should be here. No matter what's happened we gotta stick together."

Michelle's harsh glare faltered at Jal's words and at Chris' expression.

She nodded. "Okay, I'll talk to him – but I can't leave right now, not with Tony just wakin' up."

"You don't have to Michelle," said Anwar, patting Chris on the back as he walked up. "Maxxie's up on the roof; comes here every day but he stays up there – he didn't want to upset you more."

Michelle managed to look somehow more shocked and Chris felt a twinge of guilt for having spoken so harshly. He smiled and patted her arm. "Just go to him, sort things out – everything will be fine."

"Yeah," she answered shakily. "You weren't the one callin' him names."

"You want me to come with you?" asked Jal.

Michelle shook her head. "I'd better do this alone."

SKINSSKINSSKINSSKINS

The door swung open easily enough and Michelle stepped out, cursing to herself that it had to be the roof. Still, it had to be done. While part of her wanted to keep hating Maxxie she was smart enough to realize that the blame game was a no win situation. Pushing Maxxie away had made her feel better but all it had done was upset others.

The day that Tony would get out of here would be the happiest of her life, but after her and Maxxie's fight she had also dreaded it. No matter what she tried to not see the vision of those two together was still burned into her brain. Add to that the continuation of it. Tony's infatuation with Maxxie had been undeniable, well he would of course deny it but Michelle knew better.

The touching, the looks and the whispered words; maybe she had imagined some of it but not every single time. The reality was if Tony was interested in Maxxie no amount of pushing from Michelle was going to stop it – Tony wasn't built that way and she was pretty sure no amount of coma time would change that.

The object of her former ire, and the reason for her jealousy was across the other side, dancing. Walking closer but not interfering Michelle had to admit the little git was a fabulous dancer, and hot as hell with his shirt billowing up and showing off rippling muscles. Drawing a breath Michelle gasped at herself; it had really been too long since she had a really good fuck.

Maxxie's speed picked up and Michelle wanted to shout as he got really close to the edge, worried he may not realize. At the last moment he stopped, arms outstretched and just froze, right on the very brink of falling. She watched as he looked down and his shoulders slumped and his body eased back, before sliding boneless to the ground.

Walking closer she could see his body shaking and with a start Michelle knew he was crying, bawling like a baby actually. Hesitating Michelle had to decide whether to turn around and walk off, or continue – Chris' words about friendship echoed through her head.

we don't dump our mates, we just don't

She sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around Maxxie's shoulder. As the wind whipped her hair about Michelle noticed that she too was crying… perhaps they had more than just Tony in common.

Tbc…