She awoke a few hours later tied in knots and feeling very sticky. Her arm, still anchored around Hando's thin frame, was completely asleep, and she shifted slightly under his weight. He moaned softly in his sleep and moved his hand from her shoulder to entangle itself in her hair. She smiled complacently when he took a deep sleep-laden breath, inhaling her scent, and moaned again. Lying there in the slowly brightening room she began an inventory of aches, knowing that if she didn't get up soon she would be sore for the rest of the day.
She moved her toes inside her Thinsulate-lined hiking boots, wishing she had taken them off before she fell asleep. Her jeans were uncomfortably pinching her knees and hips, and her lower back was throbbing steadily from sleeping in a prone position. If I don't get up soon, I'm going to feel about eighty-five for the rest of the day, she thought, justifying her next movement. With the hand that still had feeling, she reached across her body to shake Hando's shoulder gently. "Hando, Hando, hon, wake up."
"Mmmm.... don't go," his words were slurred with sleep, and he tightened his grip on her, pressing himself closer still.
"Hando, I've got to get up," she shook his shoulder with a little more force. "Come on, hon, wake up."
His eyelids flickered as the last tendrils of sleep released him, and he raised his head groggily. "Sy?" He looked into her eyes, blinking rapidly to bring his vision into focus. "You stayed," he stated with gratitude in his tone.
"Yeah, hon, I did, but I've got to get up now." She shifted again, easing out from under him with some difficulty. He leaned back from her, breaking the contact between them, and raised his body slightly so she could extricate her dead arm from underneath him. The edge of the cot was closer than she realized, and she shifted an inch too far, teetered on the edge for a breath, then found herself in a heap on the floor with all the blankets wrapped around her.
Hando leaned over the edge of the cot, now fully awake, and looked at her with a concerned gaze. "Are you okay?"
Syrena laugned pitifully, feeling more than a little embarassed. "Yeah," she snorted. "I'm really awake now. How 'bout you?" She set about the task of disentangling her aching limbs from the blankets, trying to kick them away but ending up more tightly fettered.
"Let me help, Sy." Hando threw the remaining sheet back and sat up, swinging his bare legs over the edge of the narrow cot and reaching down to help untangle the blankets from around her legs.
"Crikey! What'd I miss?!' A young voice erupted from the back of the Tavern. Bud glanced up to see Andy coming towards him. "Did you and Colin go at it again?" Andy held a mischievous grin on his face. "Shit! Wait until John and Max hear about this, they are not going to be happy!"
Bud stood slowly, brushing his hands against his trousers. "They are not going to hear about this, Andy." His voice was low and he gave Andy a steady stare.
Andy glanced down at the tidy pile of shattered glass and picture frames, shifting on his feet nervously. "Ah c'mon, Bud... you know I wouldn't say a word. But you have to realize that somehow it's going to get out!"
"And how would that be... huh?"
Andy took a step back, stammering as he glanced up to the top of the stairs. "Um... the pictures... someone will notice the pictures missing off the wall!"
Bud raised an eyebrow, suddenly finding it very difficult to suppress a smile. The desire to fight anyone, Colin or otherwise, had been taken out of him for the time being. He reached down and picked up several pieces of broken frame. "Here, make yourself useful and take these back to the kitchen." Andy started but held out his arms as Bud loaded him up with the shattered pieces of plastic and wood, shoving him towards back of the Tavern. Kneeling down, he brushed the pile of shattered glass onto a large dustpan, and picking up the 3, now-frameless, photographs, he followed Andy into the back.
"Do you have any coffee made yet?" Bud asked Andy as he dumped the glass, along with the broken picture frames, into the farthest garbage. Andy watched Bud bury it all under several empty metal cans, finally nodding mutely.
"Yeah..." He stammered, "Um... it should be just a couple more minutes."
"Good." Bud nodded towards the three photographs that now lay on the counter. "I want you to find me three frames, we're going to put these pictures back up on the wall."
Andy blinked at him, "But Bud..."
"Just do it, Andy and don't argue with me. I've been to hell and back in the last 7 hours, give me a break, kiddo." Andy nodded and disappeared into the back storage room, returning shortly with three simple picture frames. The two of them set about replacing the photographs. Bud gave a sigh of satisfaction as they glanced down at their handiwork.
"No one will know the difference, Bud." Andy gave a quick smile, as he gathered up the picture frames. "I'll put them back up on the wall in two ticks."
Bud reached out an arm, stopped Andy in his tracks, "I'll do it..."
"But Bud, Michelle's still up there in Colin's room. You..." He stopped when Bud cocked his chin ever so silently. He passed over the photos and brushed his hands on his shirt awkwardly.
"Just get me that cup of coffee, Andy... and go about your morning business." Bud walked out of the kitchen without looking back.
Bud walked up the stairs slowly, his legs feeling heavy underneath him. He gave a glance down the hallway to the closed bedroom door, and the image of her tear-stained face in his mind caused a shiver to travel down his spine. He silently replaced the three photographs on the wall, stepping back when he was done. His eyes focused on one of them and he gave a soft curse as he looked at the smiling faces that stared back at him. The whole gang at the beach, everyone wet from a recent romp in the surf, laughter in their eyes. Bud remembered when this photograph had been taken, it was soon after Michelle's arrival at the Crowe's Nest. Even then he could see the attraction between Colin and her. Colin stood behind her, his gaze not focused on the photographer, but rather focused on Michelle, the look in his eyes one of joy and... Bud glanced away, and love.
Dammit, what had he done? He rubbed at his face, closing his eyes as he felt the weight on his shoulders increase tenfold. He found himself walking down the hallway towards the bedroom, his hand reaching for the door knob. Maybe he could just explain it all to her. He'd take the blame for everything, then maybe she'd at least talk to Colin again. It would all work out in time... Bud turned the handle slowly.
"Bud... Coffee's ready." Andy's voice interrupted from below, causing Bud to jump slightly. He removed his hand from the door knob, clenching his fingers in a tight fist. He breathed deeply, realizing that he had been about to make a horrible mistake. He needed to think about this more, there had to be something he could do, but now wasn't the time, and not this way. And besides, Michelle needed time alone. He cursed to himself for being so foolish. He turned slowly and walked down the stairs. Andy came out of the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. "Here ya go, mate." Bud didn't look up as he walked out the front door into the morning sun.
He crossed the grass and stopped under the tree that had been his punching bag only an hour before. He slumped down against its base, taking comfort in the hard feel of its bark against his back and the cool grass underneath him. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the photograph that Colin had dropped earlier. The two smiles looking back at him seemed so distant, removed from the present, as he remembered the look of disgust on Michelle's face and the look of sadness in Colin's eyes. With a heavy sigh, Bud folded the picture carefully, nestling it in his shirt pocket as he leaned his head back against the tree. Breathing deeply, he closed his eyes, allowing these thoughts to run wild in his mind, it was the least he could endure after what he had put them through. He sat there for a long time with his eyes closed, eventually falling into a fitful sleep, with images of fists and tear stained faces filling his dreams.
Exhaustion overcame her eventually and Michelle slept tangled up in the soft bed sheets, the covers pulled up to her chin and the pillow tossed carelessly aside as she breathed deeply, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The morning light caressed her face, warming her already flushed cheeks as she rested. While her body welcomed this rest, tense and sore muscles finding some release, her subconscious was mulling over the emotions and thoughts that had bombarded her for the past few hours. Under her closed eyelids, Michelle's eyes flickered back and forth wildly. She jerked her head suddenly, a gasp escaping her lips.
The darkness enveloped her -- thick and damp, it pressed against her, surrounding her completely. She wanted to scream out for help, but a sense of hopelessness and loss prevented her. A crack of a twig far behind her caused her to freeze, her breath stopping in her throat. Another crack, closer than the first, and Michelle broke into a run. Her feet felt sluggish, tangling in the brambles and twigs at her feet. The passing branches caught against her clothes and slapped her face as she attempted to outrun her phantom pursuer.
Soon, her ribs became to scream with pain, her lungs gasping for much needed air as she ran. She stumbled several times, thorns and sharp rocks cutting her hands and shins as she hit the ground rolling. Her mind scrambled as she ran, desperately trying to figure out who would be pursuing her. What had she done? She could feel their anger, their hate -- their desire to hurt her and somehow she knew they would not stop until they had reached her. Her body screamed for her to stop, each movement causing a searing pain through her sore muscles, but she stumbled onwards -- overwhelming fear the only thing keeping her moving.
The dark forest suddenly disappeared and Michelle found herself running through green fields, the sound of the ocean ahead of her. Giving a quick glance behind her, she saw the silhouette of her pursuer as they emerged from the trees and darted across the field after her. Michelle skidded to a halt at the edge of a large cliff. Gazing down the sheer face, she watched the surf pound against the rocks below. She gasped, realizing she was trapped. Turning quickly, Michelle shielded her eyes against the blaring sun and trembled as her pursuer slowed to a menacing walk as the distance closed between them.
"What do you want?!!" Michelle screamed at them, taking a hesitant step backwards as she tried desperately to identify who had been chasing her. The tension in the air intensified, the invisible anger burning her skin. She felt the edge of the cliff behind her and at that same moment her pursuer stepped out of the glaring sunlight and into view. Michelle gave a gasp of surprise as looked at a mirror image of herself.
"What... " She stammered, "I don't understand..."
Her pursuer laughed roughly, giving up a sly grin. "You're not wanted here any more, Michelle."
Michelle stared at this likeness of herself... this twin, and another wave of anger and resentment hit her, throwing her off balance. She fell to her knees at the edge of the cliff. "There must be some mistake..." A shadow crossed the ground and Michelle glanced up. Colin stood above her, a look of bitter resignation his face.
Her twin cackled loudly, "You are not welcome here... is she, Colin?" A hand rested on Colin' shoulder, caressing him softly. He gave Michelle only a brief glance before he shook his head. "You know what to do, love..." Her twin stepped back, giving Colin a pointed look. Michelle watched as Colin reached for her slowly, lifting her to her feet and turning her towards the ocean. Only there was no ocean... only a black abyss -- the end of the world.
"Colin, please no..." She pleaded, but her cries when unheard as he gripped the back of her neck and thrust her forward. "Please Colin... I don't want this...."
"It's too late, 'Chelle..." Colin's soft voice whispered in her ear and she was pushed forward. She tumbled off the edge, a high-pitched scream leaving her lips as the air rushed passed her. The darkness of the abyss enveloped her, offering her only one fleeting glimpse as the Crowe's Nest disappeared into the fog above her.
Colin's name escaped her lips as she awoke with a sudden start, her eyes wide with fear. A pair of arms embraced her, holding her tight against a broad chest; a deep voice soothing her, as she was rocked gently back and forth. Trembling and crying softly, Michelle buried her head in the welcoming shoulder.
Hando's deft fingers made quick work of disengaging Syrena's legs from their blanket bonds, and he offered his hand to help her up. She accepted, standing to find herself mere centimeters away from him, looking into his fathomless green-grey eyes. He held her hand tightly in one of his and lifted his other hand to run his fingers through her hair, smiling softly. His eyes traced the line of her cheekbones and followed the angle of her jaw, taking in the features of her face before returning to look into her eyes once again. He leaned forward slightly, closing the distance between them, and placed his lips against her cheek for a long moment, inhaling her scent and feeling the heat of her skin against his. His breath hitched in his chest, and he turned his head to rest it on her shoulder, his fingers still entwined in the long hair at the back of her neck.
Syrena felt the heat of his lips against her skin and stifled a shiver that started at the base of her spine and threatened to buckle her knees. Not now, she told herself silently. Control yourself, body, come on. She squeezed his hand gently and pushed him back firmly with her free hand. "Hon? Let's go get ready for the day," she whispered, telling herself not to get lost in the moment. "I don't know about you, but I need a shower. And we've got to see about getting you some clean clothes." She gestured at the brown-stained jeans and t-shirt in the corner, "Those are only fit for the incinerator now."
He followed her arm with his eyes, looking at how bloodied his clothes were and nodding in acquiescence. "Yeah, I've got more clothes in my room."
"Well, then, let's get ourselves back to the hotel, now that you're feeling a bit better, eh? And we'll plan a day from there, what say you?"
"Sounds good to me," he agreed, smiling shyly and stepping back to pick up the blankets and wrap himself in them. His bare feet padded softly on the hardwood floor of the tavern as they walked down the dark hallway to the front door. Hando walked slightly hunched over as though his previous confidence had seeped out during the night. Syrena noticed this and placed her hand on his back, trying to infuse him with her confidence. He moved closer to her touch, and by the time they reached the hotel door he was walking under the umbrella of her arm, huddled against her. In deference to his somewhat weakened condition, they took the elevator up three flights to her floor where he accompanied her to her room, 30.
"Come on in, and I'll wrap your bandages so they'll stay dry in the shower. Then you can meet me back here, okay?" He followed her into the room and waited as she dug through her pack for more supplies. "I knew there was a reason I always packed extra garbage bags," she grinned, holding up a white plastic bag. "Have a seat, hon," she directed him to a soft chair beside the door. She cut the bag into broad strips and wrapped them carefully around his wrists, taping them securely to his skin to keep out water. Her touch was gentle and effecient, and he smiled, letting the blankets fall away from his shoulders as she worked.
"I need a smoke," he stated matter-of-factly.
"Come to think of it, so do I," Syrena replied, chuckling. "I'd almost forgotten nicotene for a while there!" She went back to her pack and pulled out a packet of cigarettes, offering him one then lighting it out of habit. They smoked in silence, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling in whorls and loops. She watched him smoke, noting the way he blew the smoke out almost angrily at first then slower until he looked rather pensive. When the butts were snubbed out in the ashtray, she stood, ready to get out of her day-old clothes and into a nice cool shower. "Well, you should be good to go now, hon. You go get some clothes, get a shower, and meet me back here when you're finished. Then... breakfast?"
He stood up and grinned widely. "Beauty, Sy. My treat, right?"
She chuckled as he kissed her quickly on the cheek and turned to go. After he had gone and the door had closed behind him, she stood there lost in thought for a moment, still feeling the hot brand of his lips against her cheek. Unbidden, her hand rose to feel the spot as though it were warmer than the rest of her body. Her fingers traced the line of her cheekbone then ran down to cross her lips before she shook her head, turning her thoughts to a cold shower, and started to gather clean clothes for the day.
No more bad dreams disturbed her sleep, and when she awoke, it was only because she had felt a slight chill. Tina found that John had not only put her raincoat over her, but - as she raised up, stretching and glancing about - he was loading their picnic items back into the Chrysler. She stood, slipping her feet into a pair of sandals.
"Hey!" she called, waving at him.
"Hey! Morning darlin'," he said, jogging back to her. He jumped down to her level, gathering her in his arms. "How are you feeling?"
"Pretty good considering I was sleeping outdoors like this," she joked, and the two kissed as if they had not seen one another in days. "Mmm - yummy."
"Yummy, huh? You taste pretty good yourself," he said softly, watching her cheeks redden. Biebe chuckled. "Well...you do. I can't get enough of you."
"John..." she whispered shyly, bowing her head.
"Sunny...don't ever deny that you are one very sexy lady. You just needed to be told that." His hands glided across her breasts, then to her waist, detecting not only soft full curves, but muscle too. He had seen photographs of her prior to her weight loss, and was amazed at what her seventeen-month regime had done. She proudly admitted to shedding over ninety pounds, but she was still attractively full figured. John sighed, his tongue flicking the hollow at her throat's base. "Yeah...you are a very sexy lady, Tina." He listened as she giggled, her laughter so contagious it made him smile as he looked up at her. "Speaking of yummy, you getting hungry?" Watching her head cock to one side, he suddenly realized the implication, and quickly added, "No, I mean actually hungry."
"I knew what you meant, Johnny," she laughed, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. "Yeah, I'm getting a little hungry."
"Well everything's loaded if you're ready. Half an hour to get back; hit your hotel room..."
"I'm dying for a shower."
"And..." He glimpsed his watch. "Well, we can have very late breakfast, brunch or lunch at that point. I don't think it'll matter. So, you got everything?"
They double-checked the area for belongings or trash, and a short time later, the convertible was speeding its' way back to the CrowesNest. They arrived in less than thirty minutes since Tina was re-enacting an Indianapolis 500 finale, then headed up to the hotel. John carried her bags, while she carried his toiletry kit and gym bag with his change of clothing. They cautiously passed the spot where they had seen Bud White the night before, but he was absent. Only the poor tree showed the effects of the cop's anger, and Biebe mentioned that the arborist would have to be called to attempt first aid. He just hated to think what condition Bud was in by now.
They saw Peaches in the lobby, and she quickly filled them in. Michelle was supposed to be doing all right; Maximus mentioned that Syrena had been exhausted beyond belief and needed rest; Hando was doing fine himself and had been uncharacteristically and devotedly checking on Sy; Colin had disappeared - no one had seen him in hours. And Bud - he was around, she guessed. It was a mess, Peaches admitted, but she was glad at least that Michelle and Hando would pull through.
/Physically anyway// Tina considered silently, surprised she felt any sympathy for the neo-Nazi who had now regrettably invaded even her subconscious. All this time in the CrowesNest, she usually forgot he existed. Thanks to the Boyz she was fondest of, they had protected her so there had never been an altercation with him. She had never even met him, only seeing him at distances. Now she was dreaming about someone she knew only from a movie, and although it was a dream, the thought left her sick inside. She felt vulnerable in a way she never had before.
/I wouldn't...// She paused, not wanting to think the words as she and John ascended the staircase. /Go ahead Tina. Say it. If Hando was a threat,...would you...could you...// Another pause as her eyes briefly met John's and she smiled sweetly at him, hoping her troubled mind was not reflected in her face.
"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, and Tina held her breath, then nodded.
"Just stiffer than I realized, that's all. I'm not used to sleeping outside."
Fleetingly, she wondered if he believed that comment for he looked at her, the concern obvious. Then he smiled. "Next time I'll remember the sleeping bags." She laughed and turned to unlock the door of her beloved and customary room 205, missing John's expression. It was more than stiffness, he thought. He knew her better than that. He had seen her tense up when Hando's name was mentioned by Peaches. Then when he looked at her just now, he had caught a glimpse of melancholy - just barely discernible, but John had learned her looks well. Okay for now, he would let it go. But eventually they would have to talk again.
"Hush now, 'Chelle. You're okay... Everything's all right, darling. Hush...." Maximus ran a hand over her tangled hair as he waited for her sobs to subside. "It's just a dream, just a bad dream."
Michelle trembled in his arms. "Max... it was awful!" She wiped her tears away roughly, shaking her head. "It was horrible!"
"Want to tell me about it?" He spoke softly, resting his chin on the crown of her head as he held her tightly. Michelle exhaled and then took a deep breath. She sat for several minutes, finding the feeling of Maximus holding her calming, his strength and warmth giving her peace. With a heavy sigh she spoke again, retelling her nightmare just as it had unfolded in her mind; starting with the chase through the dark forest to the cliff's edge, the twin that taunted and tormented her, Colin's rejection of her and throwing her off into the dark abyss. She finished, tears flowing again. Maximus rocked back and forth slowly, soothing her as he digested what she had told him.
"All of this is just a dream... a nightmare. Don't put any merit in it, Michelle. Everything is going to be just fine." When she did not respond, Max leaned back, lifting her face up so they could look at each other. "It was a nightmare, 'Chelle...."
"But..." Michelle frowned, her lips quivering.
"What is it?" His hand stroked her cheek and he hummed softly as he waited a few moments before she continued.
"What if Colin... what if he doesn't want me back, after all that has happened between us?!" Her voice cracked, "What if Colin doesn't want to see me anymore... Oh God, Max." Michelle buried her face in her hands. "I couldn't live with myself if it was over... I...."
Maximus looked down at her, his expression soft as she buried her face in his shoulder. "'Chelle... Colin's not going to leave you. Just give him some time.... A little space from each other can do wonders." He paused as he thought of Laura. He kissed Michelle gently on the forehead, remembering the tense situation that had erupted between him and Laura a few months back. "A little forced time away from each other and you quickly realize how much you love each other, how much you were meant for each other." He smiled, "Everything will be as good as before, Michelle, even better... just give it time."
Michelle shook her head, still not convinced. "You don't know what happened."
"Of course I do," Max interrupted, "I was there when you fell, love. You gave us all quite a scare. We'd thought we'd lost you...."
"No. Not that." Michelle furrowed her face impatiently. "They had another fight..."
"What!?" Maximus looked at her, his eyes wide. Michelle continued as if she hadn't heard Max's exclamation.
"Colin came upstairs. I guess he wanted to make sure I was okay. I told him to get out. I told him to leave..." She glanced down at her hands, noticing they were shaking, she clenched them into tight fists. "And then I heard them fighting downstairs. When I got up to look, they were at each others throats." She wiped at her eyes, "They stopped fighting when they saw me... but Max," She bit her lip as she thought of what she had done next. "I told them it was over.... I was so angry, I told Colin it was over."
Maximus growled under his breath. "I'm going to knock their heads together! Damn those idiots! They ought to know better than that -- after what happened to you!"
The sudden memory of an earlier dream flooded through her and Michelle gasped, pulling away from Max. She slid back on the bed, folding her arms across her chest, holding herself tight, her eyes filled with fear. Max looked at her, confused by her sudden change in manner.
"Michelle?" He reached a hand out towards her, brushing her ankle. She recoiled, rolling away from him and off the bed.
"Please don't Max." She turned her back to him, focusing her attention on the curtained window. She heard him stand and move to the end of the bed. "I want to be alone, Max. Please."
"What happened just now, Michelle?" He watched her, noting the way she refused to look at him, her body language screaming fear. Taking a deep breath, he moved to the chair by the door, sliding down in the seat. "I'm not leaving, 'Chelle. I'm not leaving until you tell me what just happened here."
"Maximus, please just go." She lowered her head, her shoulders slumping forward.
"No..." Maximus shook his head, "You were fine a minute ago and then all of a sudden you won't let me near you -- like you'd seen a ghost or something." He raised an eyebrow. Michelle turned slwoly, her eyes still focused on the floor.
"Max, please don't make me." She was trembling all over now, and when she looked up finally, her eyes pleaded with him. But Max only sat waiting, a patient look on his face. Michelle squirmed and fumbled for a moment, nervously biting her lip until she had the bitter taste of blood in her mouth. "It's horrible, Max..."
"Take your time... and I've seen plenty of horrible things. Just try me, okay?"
Taking another deep breath, Michelle began to recite her dreams for a second time that morning. "It was another nightmare," she began and suddenly the dam broke and the words poured out, "it was earlier, before the second fight, before Colin had come upstairs, I guess it was after you and Sy left me here. In the dream I woke up here, to the sounds of the guys fighting. I stepped out into the hall and tried to stop them, but they just kept on fighting over me - no matter what I tried." Max noticed her face pale as she talked, "Then you were there, Max... and like King Solomon you decided it for them."
"King Solomon?" Maximus raised an eyebrow.
"You made them decided which one really wanted me. And then when they couldn't stop bickering, you...." Michelle lowered her eyes, clenching her hands together at her stomach. "You sliced me in half." Max's eyes widened as he followed what she was saying. "You walked away, leaving me to bleed to death on the floor. You left saying, 'Now you can each have a piece." She was ghostly white now, her breath coming in quiet gasps as the nightmare replayed in her mind.
Maximus rose slowly and she trembed as he came to her, but she didn not pull away when he took her in his arms, enveloping her in his warm embrace. He held her for a long time, "Another nasty dream," he spoke finally, "But I don't think you have any need to worry." Michelle felt him laugh softly. She looked up at him, smiling slightly, a pleasant change on her pale face.
"You mean, you're not going to chop me in half?" Max laughed, touching her face affectionately.
"Far from it, 'Chelle." Although I wouldn't mine swinging my sword at a couple of idiot brothers of mine. No permanent damage, mind you." With another chuckle, he kissed her forehead. "You feel a bit better?"
She nodded slowly, "Some."
"As well as can be expected considering..." Max brushed a stray hair from her face. "How about we get you back to your own room?" You'll feel even better after you've had a chance to freshen up some."
As he mentioned the idea of freshening up, Michelle realized how grungy she actually felt. She had slept in her clothers, cried for hours on end -- blood, sweat and tears. Michelle nodded absently, grimacing as she ran a hand through her greasy hair. "I must be quite a sight."
"Nothing that water, soap, sleep and a few more hugs can't fix." He squeezed her once more before pulling a light blanket around her shoulders. "Let's start a new day, shall we?" Maximus turned and lead her towards the door.
Maximus offered to carry her several times, but Michelle politely refused, insisting that she just needed to rest for a brief moment before continuing on. They stopped just outside Crowe's Hotel and sat silently on the front steps watching the morning mist evaporate off the surrounding hill.
"I remember mornings like this from my home in Trujillo." Max spoke finally, "I could sit for hours in the early morning, watching the clouds of mist, the sun shining off the dew-dampened grass." A deep chuckle erupted from his chest, "Of course, my wife would complain that I never got anything done on those days." There was a respectful pause, both of them staring off into the hills.
"Do you miss it, Max? Do you miss her?" Michelle asked, her voice a low whisper.
"Yes... I do." Max nodded, "but not as much as I used to. When I first arrived here, before I understood things were... before Laura, I missed her terribly... but that has changed now." He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Why do you ask?" He waited for Michelle to reply, but she remained quiet, her arms hugging her knees, the blanket wrapped snugly around her shoulders. "You're wondering about Colin, 'Chelle?"
She nodded and Maximus rubbed a hand over her shoulder and down her back. "I can't speak for him... on the other hand, I think I can safely say that it is much the same for most of us here. We've adjusted to our new life here at the Crowe's Nest and I know most of us have moved past the lives we once had. And from what I have seen, and heard, Colin's life was not a terribly pleasant one to look back on...."
"But Midori..." Michelle lowered her eyes.
"And my wife." Maximus took her hand, holding it gently in his. Michelle looked down at it, noticing how it enveloped her. "Colin loves you, Michelle. Midori is his past.. You are his present... and you are his future."
Michelle bit her lip, swallowing. She stood slowly. "I just want this all be back the way it was, Max.... I want to go to sleep and wake up with Colin beside me... holding me."
"I know... and soon, 'Chelle. Soon." Max stood with her, sliding a hand around her waist as he helped her inside.
Peaches glanced up as the door opened, stepping out from behind the desk, arms outstretched as she approached them.
"Michelle, how are you feeling?" Peaches embraced her, but Michelle just smiled.
"It's been a rough night in more ways than one. She just needs to freshen up some." Maximus spoke for her, nodding.
"Of course." Peaches stepped back, holding Michelle's hand. "I figured you would be back some time today, 'Chelle. So I had Cort make sure that your room was well stocked with towels, fresh sheets and all that stuff." She squeezed her hand, "You just let us take care of you, okay? You'll be all right soon."
"Thanks Peaches," Michelle managed, feeling suddenly exhausted. She leaned against Maximus, who quickly wrapped his other arm around her.
"Whoa there..." He held her tightly. "I think you need to be carried this time round, hon." He slid an arm under her knees and lifted her into his strong arms. Michelle lay her head against his shoulder without argument. Peaches led them up the stairs, opening Michelle's room with the master key. Once inside, Maximus seated her gently on the edge of the bed. He brushed her hair away from her face, kneeling in front of her.
"What do you want to do, Chelle? Sleep? A nice warm bath? Or how about breakfast?" Michelle shook her head, uncertain.
"How about breakfast in the bath?" Peaches giggled softly, "And then you can fall asleep there too..." Maximus smiled, laughing softly as he lay Michelle back on the covers.
"Rest a bit, and get some energy. I'll be back in a while. Peaches can send up some fresh fruit for you... something to wake up to. You can have a bath later, when you're up to it."
Michelle nodded, feeling her eyelids grow heavy the instant her head hit the pillow. Maximus started to pull the covers over her, but Peaches set a hand on his arm.
"I'll do that, you go on, Max." Peaches smiled, moving to Michelle's feet as she started to gently pull off her black Blundstone boots. "I'm not going to let her sleep in these sweaty boots another minute. I'm sure she's been wearing them all night." Maximus nodded, turning towards the door.
"I'll check back in on her later." He frowned slightly and Peaches caught it out of the corner of her eye.
"Everything's all right isn't it, Max? Between her and Colin, I mean?"
Maximus stopped at the door, his hand resting on the door knob, "I'm sure everything will be fine." He nodded solemnly before he opened the door and left the room.
Peaches watched him leave, a puzzled look on her face. She shrugged, turning her focus back on relieving Michelle of her shoes and socks before she lay a light down quilt on top of her. She retreated slowly to the door, turning off the light as she left. She'd send one of the guys up with some food in a bit, Jeff maybe... he always had a way of brightening someone's day. Peaches pursed her lips in thought as she descended the staircase back to the lobby. Maybe by that time, Michelle'd be ready for a nice long bath and maybe even a little company.
She laid out a clean pair of black jeans, a t-shirt with a band logo emblazoned across the chest and a rag wool sweater before stripping off what she was wearing and padding into the bathroom. The water was just the right temperature, and it sluiced away the grime from the long day before, making her skin react with gooseflesh. She washed her hair with the complimentary shampoo and stood under the showerhead shivering though refreshed. She caught herself humming brightly then chuckled aloud, talking to herself, "What are you doing, Sy? Have you gone mental? Come on, cold water, do your job." She yelped when the water suddenly got colder, icing the feeling that was spreading in her loins.
Dripping she emerged from the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She glanced at herself in the mirror and ran her hand over the short hair on the top of her head, spiking it. "Oh you look a mess," she told her reflection, flipping her hair down her back. The long hair in the back was a consolation for her mum, a happy medium that she didn't really mind. Still grinning and feeling somewhat giddy, she walked out of the bathroom to find Hando sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing his woolen jacket over a button-down shirt and clean blue jeans and absentmindedly running his fingers over the cotton fabric of her t-shirt.
She gasped in surprise, gripping the towel tightly around her still wet body. Hando stood up, startled from his reverie. "Oh, sorry, Sy. I... uh.... I can...," his eyes travelled down her long legs exposed beneath the towel which suddenly felt transparent. "I... I'll wait outside," he turned abrubtly toward the door.
"No worries, hon. You just scared the bejeezus out of me," she laughed, slowly regaining her composure. I've never really been modest about my body so why start now, was her train of thought. "Ya know, I think I only have one bejeezus left." He looked back at her, meeting her serious gaze for a moment. She broke into laughter, unable to deliver the punchline deadpan, and continued, "I'll just get dressed in the bathroom. Make yourself comfy. Be back in a tick." She scooped the clothes off the bed and retreated to the security of the closed door. The towel fell to the floor as she leaned against the door seriously contemplating another cold shower. The appraising look he had given her was almost palpable, as though he had run his fingers over the length of her body; she shuddered, sighing heavily, dried herself and dressed quickly.
Hando was standing with his back to her, silhouetted against the picture window with his arms extended above his head and his fingers splayed against the wall above the window. His long black coat hung limply against his calves shadowing his figure. She stood in the bathroom doorway looking at him, trying to catalogue her emotions and feelings; she knew that her empathy had gotten her in trouble before, had gotten her hurt emotionally, but she wasn't able to change. She gazed upon his dark figure, watching him watch late fishing boats pass between the shore and the horizon, and she felt her heart in her throat. Her pulse pounded in her ears, and she remembered to breathe, gasping softly, wavering on her feet for a moment. He turned to look at her as she reached out to steady herself against the door jamb and crossed the room in what appeared to be a giant leap. "Hey, Sy, are you okay?" He took her arm in his strong hand, stabilizing her, and she could feel ever fibre of the rag wool pressing into her bare skin where he gripped her.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I think I need to sit down."
He guided her to the bed, holding her steady as her head spun mercilessly. Her eyes were unfocussed and bleary when she looked up at him. He knelt before her, his hands burning their prints into her flesh beneath the denim fabric, and looked up at her worriedly. "Are you sure you're okay, Sy? You've got...," his voice faltered and he raised his hand to her face, feeling its pallor. "Sy?" His inquiry fell on unhearing words as she collapsed backwards onto the comforter, blacked out.
