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She woke up in the middle of the night, stomach twisted into knots, a stickiness between her thighs. Reached down, her hand coming away bloody. Oh, no. Not now. This was the worst time. Oh god, how could she think such a thing? They had met again for the first time in nineteen years and the dark voice in her mind was already whispering craven things. She should be planning how to help him, about how to get him out of *that house* but instead she was imagining how he would feel inside her. How they would fit together. They barely had a present and all she could think about was a shared future. She didn't even know what he wanted. Had never known. He'd never seemed to want for anything. Because he had everything. Her most of all. You could have me if you wanted. Are you on medication, Summers? What are you saying? I would...I would give you anything. Everything. Stop. Stop it. You're talking like a crazy person. Please. Please kiss me. Jesus Christ. You're joking right? Very funny. Fuck Summers, you really had me going there for a moment. Of course, I'm joking. I would rather kiss a toad. Grab your things. Let's go before the sun fries your brain completely. Next thing I know, you'll be telling me you want to go steady with Warren Meers. She stumbled to the bathroom, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead. Her stomach clenched in nausea. It hadn't hurt this much since that first time. He had been there. He'd always been there. All her most embarrassing, private, important moments.Their shared history was tangled together like the thin gossamer threads of a spider's web. Until God's childish, cruel hand tore a hole in it. ********************************************* Sweat was trickling into her eyes. Christ on a crutch, it was hot. She could see the heat shimmering in the air, mixing with the dust rising off the clay ground of the baseball field. Her hands clenched nervously around the cool, wooden firmness of the bat. He was on second base, head cocked, body crouched to run for home. The sunlight glinting off his silvery hair blinding her. Suddenly her stomach seized up in a white-hot wave of pain. She staggered under the nausea and stumbled to the right, just managing to avoid getting beaned in the head with the ball Angel threw at her. "Strike three!" "Jesus Christ, Summers! What was that?" He stalked over to stand beside her form, doubled up in pain. "What's going on, Summers? Summers! What's the matter with you?" She clutched at his arm, gasping with the unbearable effort. "Will, I don't feel so good. I think I'm dying." He frowned. "Quit being so melodramatic, you big baby. Go sit down." "I...I can't. Oh my god. My stomach hurts so much, I can't breathe." He paled slightly and put his arm over her back, leading her to the bleachers. Practically pushing her into a sitting position when her legs refused to bend. Dimly, through the red haze of pain overtaking her mind, she could hear Xander and Angel calling out. "What's wrong with her? Is she gonna barf?" She grabbed his hand, whispering frantically. "Please. Please Will, tell them not to come over here. I don't want them to watch me die." "You are not going to die, you idiot. Hey! Hey Xander, Angel! You probably don't want to come over here, unless you want to get Summers' lunch all over you." Xander and Angel looked at each other; faces turning green with disgust and fear. "That's...okay. We'll just stay out here and uh...give her some space." They backed away even further and started tossing the baseball back and forth, practicing catching it in their mitts. She looked down and noticed in horror that blood was seeping through her shorts. Turned towards him, faint with fear. Oh god, she was going to die. "Will, I'm bleeding." His face went whiter than her mother's best set of china. "Where?" Her head slumped down and his eyes followed hers. "Mother of God, Summers. You really are the dumbest person alive. Okay, calm down, breathe. Tie this around your waist. I'm going to walk you home, alright?" He shucked off his button-down oxford shirt, and handed it to her. She nodded and did what he said, her hands trembling. "Hey, I'm taking Summers home, before she floods the field with her lunch. I'll see you later." Angel and Xander grumbled about how stupid girls always ruined things, but waved good-bye grudgingly. He stood and hauled her to her feet, shaking her until her eyes focused on his. She was hyperventilating; gasping for air. "For God's sake, quit that! If you pass out and I have to carry your body home, I will kill you." He half-dragged, half-carried her back to Revello Drive, silent, face stony. When they reached her front door, he let go of her and backed away. She grabbed his arm in panic. "Don't...don't go! Don't leave me alone. My mother's at work. Please Will, don't let me bleed to death alone." His eyes rolled up. "Dear Lord, please help me to have the patience not to smack Summers in the face. You are not going to bleed to death. Here, give me your key. Let's get you to the bathroom." She almost sobbed in relief when they reached the bathroom. Her entire lower body was on fire. She had never felt this kind of pain before. Not even that time he had stepped on her foot, when their mothers sent them to dance class when they were nine, and he had broken her big toe. He sat her down on the lid of the toilet, and raked his hands through his hair. "Will, what's happening to me? Why do I feel like I'm dying?" "Sweet Mary Mother of God, Summers. You must be the stupidest person on God's green earth. How many times do I have to tell you? You are NOT going to die. Unless I kill you myself." Her eyes filled with angry tears. "Then why do I feel this way?" "Didn't your mother tell you anything? Oh my God. What did I do to deserve this? Listen Summers...shit...I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it. You...you've...oh hell! You've gotten your...your womanhood, okay?" "But I don't want it!" He threw his hands up in the air with disgust. "Well, tough shit. There's nothing you can do about it." The tears rolled down her cheeks. Oh God, have mercy. "What does this mean? How long am I going to feel this way?" "Holy Hell! What do I look like, a girl? I just heard some of the other boys talking about it once in the locker room. Sheesh, Summers, stop crying. Look, it just...it just means that you're ready to have a baby." She gasped in terror and almost slid in a heap off the toilet. A baby! She couldn't have a baby, she didn't even like babies. She was only fifteen! Ohgodohgodohgod. She was being punished by Him. She never should have lied to her mother about being done with her chores so she could go out and play baseball. Please God, don't make me have a baby and I swear I will never lie again. I swear I'll never complain about doing the dishes. "I don't want a baby! I don't want a baby!" "STOP screaming! Did I say you were going to have a baby? I just said you were ready to. Geez Louise Summers, calm down. Don't worry, with the way you carry on, no man will want to marry you and give you a baby." She slumped in relief but jolted when another wave of fiery pain washed over her belly and left her gasping and clutching his leg. "Will, am I being punished?" He sighed and dropped to his knees in front of her so they were eye-to-eye. "No baby. You're not being punished. I promise." And she believed him. He never lied to her. He'd called her *baby*. Any other time, she would have punched him in the nose, but now it made her feel warm inside. Protected. He cleared his throat and got to his feet. Started rummaging through the bathroom cupboards, his face red. "I can't believe your mother never told you." "She doesn't talk about grown-up things." "Obviously. She must have some of those...things around here. Here." He thrust a large box into her hands. She had never seen it before. Had never really paid attention. She pulled out a thick pad of white cotton. What in Lord's name was she supposed to do with *it*? "What is this? What am I supposed to do?" His face flushed even redder. "Oh my Lord. How could so much stupidity possibly be contained in one person? You stick it on your underwear, so you don't...so you don't make a mess of yourself. Sheesh Summers, it's not advanced math." "Oh. Could you...could you get me some underwear? I don't think I can walk right now." He looked like he was going to keel over in disgust but then she sniffed, another bout of tears threatening. "FINE. Just do not cry. I swear, you look so ugly when you cry, it makes me wanna throw up forever." He stomped off to her bedroom and she could hear him muttering 'if Angel and Xander ever findd out about this, I will never be able to show my face around town again.' "You're a pig, Summers. Don't you ever fold your clothes before you put them away? Good Lord, your drawers look like a tornado went through it." He held a pair of her flowered panties pinched between the tips of his thumb and forefinger so he would touch as little of it as possible. His arm was outstretched as if to keep it far away from him. "Here. God, these are disgusting. Why can't you just wear white underwear like other normal people?" She ripped the panties from his fingers and glared at him. "Shut up. If my stomach wasn't still hurting, I would kick you in your big, fat head." He rolled his eyes. "There's gratitude. I swear Summers, if you tell ANYONE about this, I will run your underwear up the flagpole on the corner of Main Street." ****************************************************** As she cleaned up, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of that day. He had always been there. Always angry, always insulting, always comforting and taking care of her. She remade the bed and laid down waiting for sunrise. Now it was her turn to take care of him, even if he made it difficult for her. He was so proud and she was so in love. It's almost morning. I sat here awake all night with wanting you. Are you thinking of me right now? As I am thinking of you? You were such a strong girl. I am not strong. The only time I felt above myself was when I was with you. When I was with you, I was flying. Soon. Soon, you'll come. And make me fly. |