Suggested Listening: "Sirens" - The Pack A.D.

Take Your Time

~Sirens~

Sometimes, I worry that the world would be a better place without me in it.

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An alarm was triggered as the man stumbled back, tripped over the curb, and fell against the hood of a car. We gave it no mind. Matt was staring at the man, breathing hard, his fist still in the air – as if he could see nothing else. I saw only Matt.

"He's bleeding," he murmured, eyes wide.

Indeed, the man was. Blood trickled out of his mouth, probably caused by him biting his tongue on impact. It was a sight I'd seen before. I found it strangely fascinating that it shocked Matt so much.

I said, "I didn't even know he was behind me."

Some of the rage returned to Matt's countenance, and his nostrils flared. "He was trying to hit you over the head with a bottle."

It was only then that I noticed the shattered glass on the sidewalk. The man sat up on the car with a groan, holding his head. All of a sudden, the alarm stopped blaring; someone must have looked out the door to turn it off, but didn't care enough to join in the scene we were making.

Blinking groggily, the man got to his feet. Once he'd found his bearings, the change in him was immediate. He set his sights on Matt, and faster than either of us would have expected, he charged. Like a runaway train, nothing could stop him. But I tried.

I threw myself in the way and absorbed most of the impact. Instinctively, Matt tried to catch me. I heard the sound of his sneakers sliding against the glass, and then we both slammed into the wall. There was a sickening crack that, as soon as I heard it, made my guts twist; I knew it was the sound of Matt's head hitting against the brick.

I couldn't feel the pain – not yet.

Gathering together everything I had in me, I took a hold of the man still leaning against me after his impression of an angry bull, and I wrestled him to the ground. He struggled against me, and his blunt nails scratched at my arms, but I didn't care. Even the glass from the broken bottle digging into my knees only registered as a minor annoyance.

It was as I was winding back to decorate the other side of the man's face that I felt a soft hand envelop my fist.

"Breathe, Mello."

At that moment, the air I was holding in my lungs started to seep out as if someone had loosened the figurative rubber band that had been trapping it in. My breath came at first as a hiss through my clenched teeth, then as a quiet whoosh as I relaxed my jaw. I hadn't been aware of the buzzing in my ears until it finally abated. The tunnel vision I was experiencing widened, and the man I had been about to hit came into focus. He had his arm up to guard his face while his other hand was clenched in a white-knuckled grip around my bicep. Drying blood covered his chin and neck.

My scraped knees throbbed in time with my heartbeat.

I let my fist go limp in Halle's hand. "Help me up," I whispered.

In response to my request, not one but two sets of hands assisted me to my feet. Halle wrapped her arms around me as I took shuddering breaths. I watched as my other helper, who turned out to be Beyond, offered his hand to the man on the ground and tugged him to his feet.

"Deep breaths." Halle rubbed light circles on my back. "Take your time."

I sighed before clearing my throat. My voice was a rasp: "Is Matt okay?"

"Naomi's got him."

No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't bring myself to look at him just then.

Instead, I growled at my attacker, "See what you did, fuckwit?"

"What I did?" the man slurred; his injured tongue made his words sound thick and garbled. "Look what you did! This dude's fucking crazy!" he appealed to Beyond (I found it much easier to refer to the singer as this rather than BB; using his initials to refer to him, coupled with his disorderly black hair, just reminded me too much of L).

Beyond raised a pierced brow at the both of us. "From where I'm standing, you both look pretty stupid. And I'm none too happy about the dent in my car's hood, either." His English accent seemed to make the comment sound that much more biting.

In response to my wince, Halle whispered in my ear, "You guys are so lucky we came to your rescue."

"As far as I'm concerned," Beyond continued, "I should be writing down your information and recommending to the owner of the bar to not allow you in his establishment again. However, I'm in a generous mood. You both look rather worse for wear after your ordeal; let's call it even. I'll let you off this time, but remember: we're not children. As adults, we know how to use our words, and we don't let our fists do the talking for us."

Looking considerably cowed, the man stalked back into the bar, presumably to wash the blood off his face, muttering all the while.

Beyond grinned, his stage makeup and glowing-red contacts making him look deranged. "That's that." He held out a hand to me. "Nice to make your acquaintance. I've heard lots about you; not all bad, to be sure."

"Charmed." I coughed after I shook his hand, feeling a strain in my ribs. "I'm sorry about your car."

For some inexplicable reason, Halle tittered like I'd just said something particularly amusing.

"That's not my car." Beyond's disturbing grin persisted. "And there's not a scratch on it."

"Then, how –?"

Halle jumped in: "We heard a girl nearby complaining after she'd turned her car alarm off that a bunch of guys were fighting outside. I put one and two together and figured that you must be involved."

My face went as expressionless as Near's on an average day; that is to say, blank. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

I chose to ignore that.

Finally, the warring inside me between shame and concern came to a conclusion, with concern the consummate victor. I walked over to where Matt stood, propped up by the wall and Naomi's shoulder. Ignoring our audience, I lightly brushed his hair out of his eyes. My throat tightened. He watched me, his gaze veiled to me by shadows.

After a time, I swallowed, powering through my riotous emotions. "How're you feeling, Matty?"

The answer was delayed by several seconds. "'Been better." He smiled, but it quickly changed into a wince. "Are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me," I ordered – brusque, but not unkind. Coaxing him with my hand to lift his chin, I got a better look at his eyes. One pupil was noticeably larger than the other. I cursed.

"Definitely a concussion," Naomi confirmed. The brunette was involved in martial arts and several other sports; she'd seen the injury as often as I had and in mostly the same situations (minus the schoolyard fights on her part).

Halle asked, "What happened?"

"Something that never would have happened if I hadn't run my mouth," I said. The memory of what my old counselor used to tell me flashed into my thoughts, and it was as if I heard her speaking them out loud: "Extending loving kindness to others is more important than having the last word."

"If I'd just swallowed my pride and let it go after the guy had bumped into me, it never would have escalated, and Matt never would have gotten hurt," I muttered, clenching my hands.

Matt shook his head. He put his hand on my shoulder; I squeezed the hand and then gently removed it. I felt the truth of my words – and the guilt that came with them was like a fire that was roasting me from the inside.

"I don't know." Halle bit her lip. "The man smelled like a beer keg. As someone that grew up with an alcoholic mother, I can tell you that drunken people will pick fights over the stupidest things."

But I wasn't even listening.

Beyond cleared his throat. "Will you lot be alright getting home?"

"I'll drive," I said as way of answer, quickly fishing the keys out of Matt's pocket; it was worrying that he didn't protest. To Naomi and Halle: "Help Matt get into the back."

Beyond's snicker was perhaps creepier than his grin. "Always in control, isn't he?" Yet another comment I ignored. On the contrary, I felt like I was spinning out of control; I felt like if I didn't enforce my will on this situation, I would fall apart. Oblivious to my turmoil (or perhaps all too aware), Beyond shared, "I'm rather dominant myself. My bandmates have told me that I have a tendency to not even submit to traffic lights. I hope you're wiser than me on that subject – tonight, for sure."

"We'll be fine," Naomi assured him. Then, shyly, "It was nice to talk to you again. We really enjoyed your music tonight. And… thanks for saving my friends from their stupidity."

Halle mouthed Boo-yah! at me and did a fist-pump – all while helping Matt slide into the backseat. I heard a muffled curse issue from Matt as he knocked his head against the car roof; Halle erupted into apologies, but she still had to suffer the withering glare I sent her way.

"I'm glad," Beyond replied with a toothy grin. "I enjoyed your company, as well. As for helping your friends – don't worry about it. All in a day's work… But if you ever need my assistance again, don't hesitate to call." Halle bounced over to me and latched onto my arm, staring at the two of them as Beyond quickly wrote down his number on a piece of paper and handed it to her.

Halle whispered to me, "They're so cute!" In a much louder voice: "Damn, I'm good!"

I rolled my eyes. "Get in the car."

Naomi finished her goodbyes and walked over to us. Halle linked arms with her, letting my arm go.

"Yes, sir!" Halle gave me a mock-salute with her middle finger before following my directive.

As I got in the front seat, I gave Beyond a lazy wave as an afterthought. Nothing against the guy; my mind was just elsewhere.

Keys in the ignition, foot to the pedal, and let's get the hell out of Dodge.

Or perhaps not.

"When's the last time you drove a standard?" I heard from the backseat.

I raised a brow at Matt in the rear-view mirror. "Don't worry, Matt; I won't hurt your baby." I said a quick, silent prayer just in case. However, Matt didn't need to know that.

He didn't look too convinced, but he wasn't exactly up to arguing the issue either.

So, we finally got on the road.

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About thirty minutes into the drive home, things started to get weird.

Matt had been silent for most of the trip so far, so I had been glancing at him in the mirror incessantly to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep. Though, considering the fact that Halle and Naomi took turns pinching him, I didn't really have anything to worry about.

It all started when he abruptly raised his head from leaning on Halle's shoulder, and said in an unusually cheery tone: "Hey, Mells. Do you remember that one time I faked having a concussion so Linda would let me leave work with you?"

Of course I remembered that. When he'd slept in my bed beside me that night, it had been absolute torture trying to keep my hands to myself. However, I humoured him. "You mean, the night you came over for a family dinner during the summer? Before we started dating?"

"That's the one!" he exclaimed.

"I remember that," Halle said.

Naomi beat me to asking: "How would you remember that?"

"Simple," Halle replied. "Mello texted me a picture of himself wearing the tightest pair of leather pants he owned with the caption, 'What does this say to you?' I replied, 'Five thousand dollars a night.' He replied, 'Perfect.' Then, the next day, I get a text from him saying, 'Matt and I are talking again.' Suffice to say, I was disappointed when I got the full story and found out that the two of them had just had some dorky, PG-thirteen sleepover."

Uncharacteristically, Matt started giggling. "That's hilarious."

"That's not even the best part!" Halle said. "At the end of September, I get sent a picture from him of a pair of pants that he says does not fit him anymore, wondering if I want them, and lo and behold, they're the same pair. So, I told him no way. I know Mello's preferred undergarments' practices; if I wore his pants, it would be like incest."

I scoffed. "It's like you people assume I don't clean my clothes."

"Incest," Halle insisted.

Matt got a dopey, nostalgic look on his face. "I still have those pants you gave me to wear to that club." I winced; yet another night out that had gone wrong. He went on, unaware of my discomfort, "I didn't return them for the same reason. I thought it would be awkward to say, 'I'm just returning these pants that encased my naked genitals. Enjoy,' – especially since we weren't talking to each other after that night."

I'd never seen Naomi laugh so hard before.

"Oh my God!" Halle hooted. "Matt, you need to be concussed more often!"

"You guys are annoying," was my witty, grumbled retort.

Halle mussed my hair from behind. "Aww, Mells… What's a sister for?"

"You'd think that being my sister by choice instead of blood would make it less likely that you would want to torment me."

She grinned. "You'd think so… But, no."

"I think I'm gonna throw up," Matt stated in the midst of this.

It took us a few seconds to realize he wasn't joking.

So started the epic struggle to take off seatbelts, roll down the window, and scramble out of his way in Halle and Naomi's case. His head was out the window before I'd barely started to decelerate; there wasn't enough time to pull over. The night came alive with the blaring of horns as the cars behind us on the highway tried to swerve out of the way of the stream of puke. Once the ordeal was over and the three people in the back were buckled in again, Halle rubbed Matt's back while he shivered, and Naomi helped him clean his face with Kleenexes from her purse.

"Well, I was right about one thing," Halle said. "Matt's car did get puked in for the first time tonight. I'd call this a successful night out."

Unsurprisingly, no-one else agreed.

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Before we could head to Matt's house, I first had to drop the girl's off at Naomi's. Though, they refused to leave before they both gave Matt kisses on the cheek and helped him get into the front seat.

"Get well, my injured, little bird," Halle cooed, leaving another lipstick mark on his forehead.

"Take care," Naomi added. Seeing Matt's discomfort with his space being invaded to such an extent, she instead went the route of giving his shoulder a squeeze.

I smirked. "Stay out of trouble."

Halle blew me a kiss, and then we were off.

While stopped at a red light, I commented, "I don't think you've had so much female attention in your life – not even when you had a girlfriend."

Matt stared at the blinking signal light of the car in front of us. "Yup. I'm definitely gay."

I somehow managed not to stall the car as I accelerated a bit too fast as the light turned green, my head tossed back, laughing. "What gave it away? The fact that you have a boyfriend or the face that you made as Halle's puckered lips descended?" Twisting my face into an expression of abject horror, I showed him a pretty good approximation of his reaction.

"Shut up." But he was smiling, and I joined in.

Despite his general state of confusion, Matt seemed to recognize the direction we were headed. "I thought we were going to your place tonight." He looked so tired, I was tempted to let him nod off for the last ten minutes, but my worries won out. The required four hours hadn't passed yet since the initial injury; he would just have to endure a little bit longer.

"Change of plans. Your mom will, understandably, be upset by your injury, whereas my mother would rouse the townspeople with a battle cry; this would lead to a witch-hunt to find your assailant, complete with pitchforks and torches."

"I guess," Matt mumbled, closing his eyes.

I turned on the classic-rock station, and Matt found my drumming on the steering wheel entertaining enough that he joined me in humming along to Led Zeppelin.

When we arrived, I offered Matt my hand to help him out of the car, but he refused. He insisted on walking inside unaided. It was a good sign that he didn't experience weakness or vertigo. Still, I didn't let myself relax just yet.

Matt's mother opened the front door just as I was reaching for the handle. "I saw the headlights through the window… What are you two doing here?" Then, she saw the dazed look in Matt's eyes. "What happened?"

"He has a concussion. It's my fault," I told her as she ushered us inside.

The tone that Matt managed was much more forceful than anything he had used so far that night. "No. I was the one who punched him."

Mrs. Jeevas froze. "Punched who?"

"A man at the bar," I explained. "He was picking a fight, and I aggravated him."

Matt shot me a look. "He was trying to hit you over the head with a bottle. It doesn't matter what you said to him; he could have killed you." He swayed on his feet, and we both steadied him.

"Let's get you a place to rest, Mail." Mrs. Jeevas led him into the living room and got him set up on the couch, while I grabbed some pillows and a blanket. Once Matt was comfortable she motioned to me to follow her into the kitchen.

Without warning, without a single word, she wrapped her arms around me.

And just like that, the events of the night caught up with me.

The tightness in my throat returned, and traitorous tears pricked at my eyes like hot needles. The tenuous grasp I had on my sense of control was already on the brink. Who knew that such a small gesture on her part could threaten to shatter my façade of strength so easily? My hands started to shake. She pulled back, holding me at arms' length.

I couldn't look her in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Her hand was warm as she touched my face. "Thank you for taking care of my boy." She swiped her thumb across my cheek and caught the one tear that had managed to escape.

I cleared my throat, stepping back. "I think I should go."

"That would be best," she said. I turned to leave. "Of course, we'll be expecting you for breakfast." I stopped in the junction between the kitchen and the living room, right at the line where the lighting from within the room was overcome by the shadows of the next. "You'll both need your rest, and it's better if you aren't distracting each other. I'll watch Matt tonight, and if he has any difficulties, I'll take him to the hospital – but I think he should be fine. I know he'll want to see you tomorrow."

I nodded, swallowing thickly. "Thanks, Mrs. J."

"No – thank you. And Mello?" My pace faltered again. "Please don't blame yourself. From what I can tell, he was just trying to protect you. He loves you. The consequences of his decisions are his to carry."

But that was where the problem lies.

I left the kitchen without saying another word and approached the couch. Matt was sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in time with his breaths without difficulty. Not wanting to disturb him, I only watched him for a few moments and said a goodbye to him in my thoughts before leaving.

I never should have put him in the position to make that decision in the first place.

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The first person I ran into when I arrived home was my father.

Well, ran into isn't the right phrase. More like: scared the shit out of.

The chilly air on the walk home had done me some good. When I'd reached the park, I had jogged, sucking it into my lungs, enjoying the way it stung, the way it cleared my thoughts. I remembered another notable time I had gone for a jog in the park, how Matt had chased me, and I smiled. By the time I was home, the light sheen of sweat made the cold singularly unpleasant. My tight pants feeling like they were shrink-wrapped to my legs didn't help matters.

It seemed that everyone was already asleep by the time I got in the door, as all the lights were turned off. I didn't bother to turn them on as I kicked off my boots and wandered into the kitchen. The clock on the stove read some time after two in the morning. After heating up some of the leftovers that Mom had brought home from the restaurant, I took my plate of food into the formal living room. I was of a mind to watch the flickering of the pilot light on our gas fireplace for a while; I was still too keyed up to contemplate going to bed.

That was when I almost sat on Jazz, who was curled up asleep in an armchair.

Jazz hissed as certain doom descended to squash him; I shouted as sharp claws dug into my ass; and my dad gasped as the cacophony startled him from his sleep on the couch on the other side of the room.

Holding my tender backside and trying to balance my plate, I waddled over to the wall to flick on the light switch.

Because that's exactly what we needed: light to illuminate this mortifying situation.

I could hear Jazz purring his satisfaction behind me.

And let there be light.

"Mello? What are you doing up?"

"Oh, you know." I gestured to my plate. "I was hungry, Jazz had a need to be sat on… 'Thought I could kill two birds with one stone. What are you doing down here?"

My dad yawned and blinked the sleep out of his eyes. "I must have nodded off after supper."

Keeping a wary eye on Jazz, I sat down in the opposite armchair. "That's a long nap."

"I must have needed it."

"Oh, yeah?" My fork paused in its journey to my mouth. "What's making you so tired?"

"Just the time of year, I guess… Maybe I'm coming down with something again. And you know, it's about to get really busy at the store with all the orders that will come in for Christmas."

I nodded.

"Well, I guess I'd better head upstairs…" He gave me a pat on the shoulder as he walked past.

Time crawled by as I finished my food. Eventually, Jazz decided to ingratiate himself to me once more, and he curled up on my feet. The clock on the mantle struck the hour.

I thought about how grey my father's face had looked after I'd surprised him awake. I couldn't think of a plausible reason for it.

With a shrug, I let it go.