Hello everyone. Welcome back. I'd like to take this time to apologize for the long wait for the last chapter, but as we all know, shit happens, and happens to good people. A lesson Brittany will in this chapter. Not to spoil it too much, but we finally find out the name of the girls' demon and a few other secrets are hidden in the story. Maybe by now you can figure out how it's going to end. It's approaching fast.
This work is the property of the author. Any unlawful duplication will result in legal action known as an ass kicking. (lol) You may download this for your own personal enjoyment, but not without my permission, or suffer the aforementioned legal action. If you are not of legal age in your area to read this, then do your ass a favor and leave before it gets repeatedly kicked. If you don't like this kind of material, then you need to ask yourself, "Why the fuck am I here?" If you wish to comment on, or compliment on my story, you may do so without fear of the aforementioned legal action.
Enjoy!
Brittany stabbed her shovel into the snowbank. After three hours of shoveling the driveway and sidewalk, she'd had enough. She stomped up to the house, leaving the evidence of her hard work in her wake. But that wasn't the reason she was pissed. In fact, if anything, all the physical labor helped her all but forget she even had a problem. Amanda was in her room telling Illitor all about their latest conversation, which wasn't their most pleasant. Brittany blamed Amanda for all of her troubles, but that wasn't what made her feel bad. What did was the fact she hadn't felt anything when she finished; feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all. Her mother had to interrupt the teenager and her rant about how Amanda fucked her life up. Was it fair? No. Was it what she wanted -- no, needed -- to say? Yes. Feeling pain may be better than feeling nothing, but getting it out is better than keeping it in.
Brittany closed the door and shimmied out of her coat. As she untied her boots the full brunt of what she said to Amanda finally set in. And she didn't like it. "Damn it," she muttered, kicking them off. A tear threatened to escape her eye. Brittany flopped onto the couch and buried her face in the pillow. She heard her mother coming up from the basement, but made no effort to move.
"Brittany, is there something you want to tell me?" came her mom's stern voice.
"No," she answered into the pillow. "Can you just leave me alone?"
Her mother hesitated. "Can't you take your little attitude problem to your room? This little mood of yours is getting old."
That did it. Brittany shot up screaming, "Little MOOD! Mom. . . I'm fucking going INSANE!"
"Now that's enough of that, young lady," her mom answered. "I understand that you've been having a rough time lately. . ."
"You don't understand shit!"
That little comment earned Brittany a slap in the face. She fell back with her hand to her cheek. Her mother look both horrified and determined. She continued, gesturing, "Amanda has been sulking around the house all day. I think it will be worth it to both of you to discuss this. . .whatever this problem is." Brittany just stared blankly at her mom, rubbing her cheek. "I know that you haven't been feeling well lately and contrary to what you may think, I know what it feels like to lose your mind. I don't have to remind you that your father is dead. When I got that phone call I went completely numb. My brain shut down, nothing seemed to matter. Hell I didn't eat for over a week. I walked around feeling sorry for myself; I didn't think it would ever end. But eventually it did. I had you to take care of, and you were flying out of your head -- like you are now. So, to make this easier on all of us, try to relax a little would you?"
"But mom, this is different," Brittany countered. "I'm sorry about what I did when dad and Brandon died, but this isn't the same. I've been having nightmares about my girlfriend's dead wife getting raped every freaking night. For a month I felt like someone was watching me. And on top of that, I'm talking to DEAD people. So no, I will not calm the fuck down."
Mrs. Williams opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. After a moment, she said, "Alright, but would you at least talk to her about that stupid argument."
"Yeah, talk. . ." she said getting up. Her mom shook her head and went back downstairs. Brittany went up to her bedroom. She tapped on the door as she opened it. Amanda was sitting on the floor using her gearbag as a desk. If she heard Brittany come in, she gave no sign. She looked over Amanda's shoulder after closing the door. Apparently, her girlfriend's conversation with her diary has been going on for a while.
"Amanda?" Brittany rubbed her shoulder. Amanda swatted her hand away. Brittany tossed her hands up in defeat and turned to leave. She stopped when she heard Illitor slam shut. Amanda was standing with a slip of paper in her hand and daggers flying from her eyes. Even had they not been twin pearls of black, Brittany would still be frightened to death by that stare. She gulped hard and took the slip.
Brittany read it, then re-read it. "Amanda, I'm sorry," she began, "I didn't mean those things the way they sounded. It's just that. . . I'm at my whit's end. I'm losing my freaking mind. I didn't mean to blame you like that. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair."
Amanda just nodded to the paper in response. She left the room to go make herself some lunch.
Brittany looked at the paper again:
"I don't know why you say the things you do, nor do I don't know why these horrible things happen to me. But they do. And quite frankly, I don't care if you blame me for your problems; I'm used to it. I've been beaten in every way imaginable and then some. But what you said to me made me think of why I'm here, in this house, in your room, waiting. I don't know what I'm waiting for. Death? I think he's forsaken me. Boredom? No, someone with a mind like mine can never be bored. Love? Yes. That's what it is. I love you, Brittany, and will do anything and everything to keep you safe -- as I've done before. I will accept any apology you have to offer, but that doesn't take the pain away. I'm hurting, just like you are. I choose to love and as such I choose to hurt. The two are not altogether exclusive, hurt and love. Sometimes I just have to remind myself that you've been hurt by love, too. But you haven't seen what not loving can do a person; you've only read about it.
I am truly yours if you be mine.
Love, Amanda"
Brittany heard the pantry open and close. A tear trickled down her cheek. She let her head fall as she took a shaky breath. Then she noticed that Amanda left Illitor earmarked on a certain page. Without thinking, Brittany opened up the diary to that page and began reading. The language and choice of words struck a chord in her gut; this was nothing like the beautiful note she just read. No, this was blunt and in-your-face type writing, aimed at her and without regret. After only several paragraphs she closed the book.
Amanda was busy at the stove when Brittany came down. Whatever her girlfriend was cooking suddenly had Brittany hungry. She took a few steps into the kitchen and said, "Smells good."
Amanda about jumped out of her skin. She spun around and slapped her girlfriend's arm. Brit grinned. "What are ya making? Whatever it is I want some."
Amanda smiled at the compliment, but was still plenty mad. She knew Brittany read Illitor's pages, and, while that made her feel a little bit better, knowing what she felt deep down was only a small step in the process. There is still a lot of work to do. Things like no more boneheaded accusations, a thought Amanda put on her pad.
"I'm sorry, Amanda," Brittany repeated. "I lost my temper and. . ." she was interrupted by Amanda's finger pressing on her lips. Amanda shook her head and returned to the stove. Brittany sighed and wrapped her arms around the mute's waist. Amanda's tension melted away under the brunette's touch. Brittany, the hardened paintball player, felt her heart skip a beat knowing she had this effect on her. Soon enough the two of them were swaying to an imaginary song they both heard. The aroma pf the kitchen soon had Mrs. Williams coming up from the basement.
"Smells good up here," the older Williams announced, setting a box near the door. She took a pause at the visage before her. "Well, I take it you two have kissed and made up?"
Brittany let go and went to the cabinet for the plates. "Not yet, but we will," she said with a wink.
"Just make sure you do it in private, like somewhere where I can't hear you." The mother chuckled and said, "it would be more than I've had in a long time."
"Mom, enough of the sex jokes? Please?" Brittany set the table. It isn't often that they get to have a luncheon like this, and she wasn't going to spend it discussing her sex-life. Her mother, meanwhile, just took her seat grinning at her daughter's embarrassment. It isn't often that she gets her daughter to turn that deep of red either.
"Hey, you started it," the older woman argued. "Your father and I raised you to have a quick tongue. And I'm sure Amanda here knows a-a-all about it."
"MOM!"
Amanda turned around and glared at Mrs. Williams. She came over to the table with hard steps, nearly spilling the contents of the skillet. She scooped up her portion of the food and gave the plate a few hard taps too many. "Ohh, take it easy, Amanda. You know I can't help but make fun. I told Brittany that when she came out of the closet."
"It's still not cool, mom," her daughter answered with a mouth full of whatever this was. Brittany didn't know, but damn it was good. Amanda smiled at her girlfriend's compliment. The older Williams wasn't far behind.
"What is this, Amanda?"
She didn't answer. Amanda shook her head put her finger against her lips as if to say, "Just eat it."
Mrs. Williams smiled, took another bite, then mewed once more. Brittany didn't even bother looking up from her plate. She just shoveled it into her mouth. All of the shoveling outside, then the stress inside had her famished. Amanda sat down between the two Williams', grinning from ear to ear. She took a bite of the beef and. . . oh yeah, she can cook.
Brittany found herself at the sink a short time later. Just like she promised, she was doing the dishes, even though she had to literally throw her girlfriend out of the kitchen. Amanda joined Mrs. Williams in the basement, getting the boxes of Christmas decorations to put upstairs.
Brittany scrubbed her pan and looked over to the basement door. A shadow was walking up the stairs, moving with the cadence of neither her mom or Amanda. No, these were slow and deliberate steps, light and unhurried. Brittany felt her heart speeding up and skipping beats. Her breath escaped her in tight heaves. Hunching forward, she grabbed her chest. Brittany was certain she was going to pass out.
She landed on the cold floor, her arm outstretched acting like a pillow for her cheek. She looked up at the stairwell. A head appeared over the top step. "Oh, fuck no!" Brittany mumbled.
"Oh, fuck me thrice in the ass and send me back to prison," her demon said. Once again he was dressed as an officer of the asylum.
"Get the fuck out of my house!" Brittany hissed, getting up to her feet. Her chest still stung, but she found it bearable. Besides, she figured it wasn't entirely real anyway.
"Oh, so demanding." The demon walked into the kitchen looking around at everything around him. Brittany was affronted when He made a face after sniffing the air. "What is that repulsive odor?"
"Excuse me?" she answered in that teenage-bitchy way. "Amanda just cooked us up a nice lunch. And for your information it was fantastic."
The demon shrugged. "If you say so."
"Just tell me what you want, or get the fuck out of my house."
"Well, well, well, aren't we in a bitchy mood today." He went over to the pantry as if He knew where it was. "Oh my god, do you humans have anything decent to eat in this house?"
Brittany tried to ignore that. She went back to her pot in the sink, scrubbing harder than necessary. She didn't look up at Him, she wouldn't. He rummaged through the many boxes on the shelves, periodically throwing one over His shoulder. With each thud Brittany's teeth clenched harder, each finished dish fell harder into the strainer.
"Just tell me what the fuck it is you want!" she yelled, finally having enough.
"Can't a man stop by and visit an old friend on occasion?" He answered, finally picking a box and sitting down. He reached into the box and pulled a piece out. "Wow, these are good," He said around a mouthful.
Brittany dropped her overly clean plate back into the dishwater. "What did you say?" she asked, turning to face Him. Her mood soured even more when she realized what He was eating. "Hey!"
"What? I can't help it if they're good."
"They're mine! Put'em back!" She said gesturing.
"No!" Looking right at her, He took another piece from the box and put it on His outstretched tongue. He stared at her as he chewed, making a good impression of Meg Ryan having an orgy in her mouth. He smiled once He finished. "Keep your voice down. Your mom and Amanda just downstairs."
Brittany let out an annoyed sigh. "Would you please just tell me what this visit is all about?"
He smiled that wicked smile of His. "That's better. See how much easier people respond when you say it politely?" Brittany just made a face, resting against the counter. "I'm curious about something. Maybe you can help me with it?"
"What would that be?"
He lifted a finger. "I'm wondering why Kayla is so utterly infatuated with you when she has Samantha."
"Hell if I know," she said, annoyed He'd make such a statement.
"Do you think it's the same reason why you can't make Sarah leave you and Amanda alone?" He asked, almost sounding serious. But Brittany heard the hint in His voice.
"What does any of this this have to do with anything? Can we skip the games and get to the fucking point?"
"My, my, my, Brittany. What did we learn not two minutes ago?" Brittany just stared at Him. He stared back, but He was smiling His oddly pearl-white teeth. "Very well. You know as well as I do that it was Samantha who ran your friend over--"
"No it was Kayla," she interrupted. And she immediately regretted it. Before she could react, He was standing less than an inch from her face, eyes seething with anger. Brittany could swear He had grown two feet higher and another wider.
"Like Amanda once told you: Don't interrupt me. Understand?" Brittany nodded, shaking from head to toe. "You're afraid. Good. Fear makes you strong, makes you think when you otherwise can't." He smiled, backing away, but even with distance between them Brittany could still feel His breath on her skin. He sat back in His seat, crossed His ankles, and continued eating Brittany's favorite crackers.
"Now, before I was so rudely interrupted, I'll get back to it. Your little blond friend, Ashley I think her name was, is so blinded with grief she can barely tell Amanda from the school librarian. I wouldn't take her word for it. You of all people should know that grief makes you do things more stupid than jealousy."
Brittany waited a few seconds to be sure He was done talking. "Is that why Samantha ran Tina down? Petty jealousy?"
"Seems that way," He answered nonchalantly. "It wouldn't surprise me. But what does surprise me is you."
"I'm sorry?"
"You are the common thread in all of this," He declared putting another cracker in His mouth. "Kayla hates you, but she loves you. Samantha wants to see you dead so she can be with Kayla. Tina is in love with you and is nearly dead. Ashley is so conflicted she just might kill herself. Our poor Sarah is dead, and in love with Amanda and would like to see the both of you dead, but for different reasons. And Amanda loves you to death. In yet, you seem to be the only person that hasn't had to suffer. Physically at least. Odd, wouldn't you say?"
Brittany blinked. It took her a second for all of that to soak in; plus she wanted to add into it why He'd be telling her this. "What are you trying to say? That Sarah -- or yourself -- is telling my enemies stuff about me so they may kill me? Not that I'd consider Sarah or Amanda an enemy."
Again, He just shrugged. "I'm just the messenger. Management wants me to keep a close eye on you lot so that's what I'm doing."
Brittany let out laughing breath. She looked up and said, "Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me." She turned back to Him, resting comfortably in the chair. Her chair. "Alright, all knowing keeper of wisdom. What do I do about it? Every time I see you your story changes. Hell, I don't even know what to call you."
"Good point," He uttered. "My full name is Salmengelafininous Reutorinis Klienginairept. But you can call me Sal if you like."
Brittany just stood bug eyed for a moment. "Well, um, good cuz I can't pronounce all of that." Sal just chuckled at that. "Does Amanda know your name? Why wouldn't she refer to you in her conversations with Illitor?"
"How should I know? You're her girlfriend." Sal's voice took on a more accusing tone. "What else isn't she telling you, I wonder."
Brittany raised an eyebrow at that. Sal just smiled at the doubt that oozed from her pores. "That's none of your business. Now would you care to explain why you keep conveniently changing your story?"
"Brittany you can call me a demon. You can call me a monster. Hell you can call me a rapist and sadist for all I care. But one thing you cannot call me is a liar. Never once have I lied to either one of you three. I just let you keep secrets from each other and let it go from there. Doubt in the human heart -- especially in women in love -- is a powerful thing."
"Well I am calling you a liar," Brittany quipped, but still thinking of how fiercesome He can be. "Someone once said that silence is only half the truth."
"Well, at least you stay awake in your English class," He mocked. "But it isn't a lie either. The truth may hurt, but honesty is the best weapon against doubt. And because you have this uncanny ability to be honest, mostly, with those around you, my boss's boss rides my demon-ass even harder."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning you are a good person, Brittany Abigail Williams," He said, shocking her. "Sarah was right. You are a tough nut to crack."
"No, I meant what do you mean by your boss's boss rides your ass harder? Do you get raped on a daily basis too? Like you do Sarah?"
Sal frowned. "Now that was uncalled for, Brit." Him mixing up her names was sending ice down her spine. "I do only what management and Sarah asked me to do. I'm as much a tool as you are."
"Why are you telling me all of this? Since when do you give a flying fuck about either me, Amanda, or Sarah? What's in it for you?"
Sal made a sarcastic face. He looked at the non-existing watch on His wrist and drawled out, "So many questions, so little time. Our time has come to a close. Tah-tah little one."
"What! Wait!" But it was too late. The image of Sal disappeared before her eyes, that goddamned smile of His all over His face. Brittany pounded a fist on the floor.
The floor. "Why am I on the floor?" she thought, blinking awake.
"Oh good, she's waking up," her mother said, clearly relieved.
"Wha-what h-happened?" Brittany asked, stumbling over her words. Her head was cradled in Amanda's lap. She was softly rubbing her hair, avoiding the small bump on the left side.
"We came up stairs with a few boxes and found you passed out on the floor. You scared me to death." Her mother was switching from fear to anger between words. Brittany knew she'd be okay.
"I'm okay mom," she said getting to her feet. Amanda also got up, only she wasn't about to let go of Brittany's hand. Brit gave her a look, but decided to just let her have it. "So. Did you guys get everything up?"
Amanda gave her an overly enthusiastic nod. "Yes," her mother said tightly.
"Well, then I guess we should get the tree up," Brittany suggested trying to get the other two to relax. Again, Amanda's head shook like she belonged back on their concert date.
"I suppose." Her mother's tone wasn't lighting up any.
They spent the rest of the afternoon setting up the decorations. Amanda particularly liked putting up the hand-made ornaments that Brittany and Brandon made as kids. Brittany couldn't keep the smile off her face, and neither could her mom. The tossing of the tinsel turned out to make the living room look like a Pepsi can massacre. Remnants of the victims were hanging from all three of the women, the furniture. Brittany even asked herself how some got on top of the ceiling fan.
"Amanda?" the older Williams asked. "Do you want to put the star on?"
Amanda's jaw dropped. Even the fucked up household she grew up in, putting the star on the tree was always a privilege. She looked at Brittany as if she needed her permission too. It took the star player a second before she realized what Amanda was asking. "It's a simple question, Amanda," Brit said, even though it wasn't. "Do you want to, or not?"
Amanda nodded her head happily, smiling. Mrs. Williams let out a content sigh when her daughter's girlfriend took it from her. Brittany and her mom watched Amanda, looking like an aluminum can murderer, stretched out and just barely got the base to fit over the top of the tree.
Brittany took a pause. Only now did she realize that her girlfriend was trying discretely to be sexy. Her tight, high cut shirt rode up her midriff when she stretched up. It clung to her breasts in the exact right way. Clearly, Amanda forgot to put a bra on this morning. This rather cold morning. Either her mom was blind as her age would allow, or she decided not to say anything. Brittany could have sworn that she saw Amanda smile at her discovery.
Amanda joined the two Williams with a bounce. The elder one put her arms around the both of them. "Light 'er up, Brittany."
Smiling at her mom's suggestion, but still getting turned on by what she just saw, the short brunette bent down to the outlet. Immediately, the whole room lit up in a beautiful display of artistry. The bulbs dancing in a colorful choreography across the surface of green, leading up to the white-glowing star.
"Wow. Nicely done, Amanda," Mrs. Williams said, just barely above a whisper. Brittany heard her and looked up. Her mom, clearly feeling nostalgic, looked like she might cry. Brittany couldn't help but smile. Suddenly the phone rang, pulling them both back to the present. "I'll take it in my room."
Brittany looked over to her girlfriend. She, too, was clearly caught up in some nostalgic memory about Christmas. She reached out and grabbed her hand. Brittany had to pull a little to get the mute back from her thought. Immediately, Amanda pulled the stunning brunette into her. Shocked, but not complaining, Brittany let her girlfriend have the kiss.
The heat and moisture from Amanda's mouth covered Brit's. Amanda wrapped an arm under Brittany's shoulder, the other, still being held, was lifted into the air. As quickly as the kiss began, Amanda had them twirling around in a lip-locked dance. Unconsciously, Brittany wrapped her loose arm around her girlfriend's waist. They twirled several times before Brittany became aware of what was going on.
She opened her eyes and pulled out of the kiss. Amanda held her face poised as if she were still there for another moment. She opened her eyes and brought them to a halt. The black-eyed girl smiled and turned away. She ran up the stairs into her and Brittany's room. Brittany wanted to say something, but thought it better to just wait it out and be surprised.
She heard her mother's muffled conversation in the other room. "Good," she thought, "she didn't see that." For as long as she could remember, Brittany never did like her mother eves dropping on her when she and her girlfriend are "having a moment". Her mom's words, not hers. She also stopped to take a moment to think about what Amanda was doing to her just a few minutes ago. Surely, Amanda had to have seen her gawking. How could she not? Amanda's normal style is to cover up all of her scars and shame. Then she so brazenly displays herself like that right in front of her. Right in front of her mom. And on that note, why would such a demure amount of skin turn her on so much. Maybe because it let her imagination take control, and that can make for a very good time.
Amanda came bouncing down the stairs. Brittany looked just high enough to see her breasts bouncing unbound with each step. A strange, sultry smile crept up on her lips. Amanda, either very aware or very oblivious to Brittany's thoughts, rushed over to the stereo system. She put a disc into the player and set it to the track she wanted. She went over to her girlfriend and put her back into their previous pose.
Brittany realized what Amanda just put in. It was the Christmas album from the String Metal Septet. Amanda took the lead in their dance as Tyler's cello flowed out of the speakers. It was their only song to not have a chorus, but told the tragic tale of a Dark Angel doomed to walk the Earth forever in loneliness. His only comfort being that every Christmas Eve, he gets to be with his true love again. Kevin's voice, low and filled with the sorrow that the Angel has trapped in his soul, soon filled the room The entire band shares in the woe, they play it with such intensity and emotion that anyone listening feels with the Angel.
"On a cold winter's night, And the pale moon's alight, An Angel stands alone and he's waiting. And the snow, it comes down, And it hushes the sound Of the ghosts out there just hesitating.
All the ghosts that live here Hold each moment so dear; A life they've been doomed unto wander. The echos of a choir Upon this Ebonshire, Are whom the Angel begins to ponder.
And the voices grow loud As His heart starts to pound, He examines this moment for meaning. And the Angel takes flight, Rising up to the Night So suddenly He seems to be dreaming.
He looks out o'er the land With His sword in His hand, The apparitions begin their unweaving Through the light it begins, And it burns on His skin, For dark of Night gives way unto to evening.
So tonight She appears, Holding Him close so near, For time's not a thing He'll remember. She whispers in His ear Things He alone holds dear, Like that night once upon a December.
Like the ghosts on the ground, He's here too to be bound. As love's not a thing He'll have unleaving. Dark wings start to deploy, His sword cuts through the noise, 'T'is only themselves they are deceiving.
Daylight burns on His skin, The ghosts rest once again, As the Angel sees His love take her leave. By the scars from the burns, So he vows to return-- She'll be here to be found next Christmas Eve!"
Amanda held the embrace as Anne's solo faded out. Brittany relaxed into her hold. There they stood for several moments, each enjoying the others tender touch. Amanda ran her fingers through Brit's dark hair, trying not to cry. Brittany rubbed her girlfriend's back not wanting to let go.
Brittany pulled her head away from Amanda's shoulder. She looked into the twin black pearls Amanda called eyes. Despite the morbid outward appearance, they were tender and sincere. She could even see her reflection as if they were twin mirrors. Amanda closed her eyes and leaned in for a kiss. Brittany mewed when their mouths touched, sucking the breath from her lungs.
Their grip on each other tightened. Amanda aggressively attacked her girlfriend's mouth, taking it as her own. And Brittany was all hers. She traced the tip of her tongue around the lips of the star paintballer. Brittany let out a groan, feeling herself dampening between her legs. She's been wanting this for so long. The more passionate Amanda became with that hot, wet mouth of hers, the hotter and wetter she became. Brittany's breath came in rough pants. That is until she opened her eyes.
"MOM!" she yelled, pulling away from Amanda. "What the hell!"
Her mother stood in her doorway with a tear in her eye, her arms crossed still holding the phone. "Sorry honey," she said softly, wiping that tear away. "You just looked so happy. It's been a long time since I've seen you like that."
"Like what?" she snapped. "Like, making out with my girlfriend and not saying anything?" Her mother just rolled her eyes. "Who was on the phone?" she asked dying to change the subject.
"Mrs. Sanders," the older woman said. Brittany's jaw about hit the floor. Mrs. Williams put up a hand to stave off the on-coming bombardment of questions. "Tina's out of her coma, sort of," she struggled to say, "but she's asleep right now. The doctors said that her brain activity has improved dramatically. Her mom said that she's been talking in her sleep all night. She said that she keeps repeating your name and some other word she can't figure out." Mrs. Williams stopped for a much needed breath. "Do you want to go to the hospital?"
"Is the pope catholic? Of course I want to go," Brittany made a beeline for the rack near the front door. She was in her boots and had her coat zipped up before Amanda had time to blink. Shoving her favorite beanie over her head, she looked up to the other two women. "Aren't you guys coming with me?"
"Of course we are honey," her mother said softly, lacking any of her daughter's enthusiasm. "Just don't get your hopes up. She could still be asleep or even slip back into the coma before we get there."
"She's my best friend," the teenager nearly yelled ,"of course I'm gonna have my hopes up. This is the best news I've heard in days." She pulled two more coats down from the rack and threw them at each woman respectively. "Besides, if she hears a familiar voice, she just might open her eyes."
Amanda looked at the older Williams as if to say, "Better do what she says."
The drive to the hospital was slow. Even though the storm stopped a while ago, the road crews were slow in clearing the snow. And where the snow was cleared, ice was forming from the cars melting the remnants. In the few miles from the Williams' house to the hospital, there must have been at least a dozen wrecks. It took the trio nearly forty minutes to get there safely, but they got there.
Mrs. Williams had no sooner stopped the car before her daughter jumped out and headed inside. Ever the bad-ass, she slid through the front door like she was riding a skateboard. Brittany didn't wait for the elevator, she ran up the stairs to Tina's floor, not slowing a bit until she burst through the door. And even then she didn't stop running until she reached her friend's room. Only here the girl took a pause.
Brittany just now realized she had no idea what to say if Tina was awake. Or for that matter, if she wasn't. What would she say to her mother? Or to Ashley? It wasn't like she could just tell them what Sal had just told her, or about Sal period. They'd think she was nuts.
Brittany held her hand atop the handle. The cold metal sent chills through her spine. Memories of the two of them playing came flooding back to her. She remembered Tina's tryout. Her playing was so consistent, so precise, that she reminded Brittany of herself trying to prove her worth to people she idolized. It isn't easy playing your best game knowing this is our one chance for greatness. In yet as Brittany watched, Tina managed to turn hopefulness into passion and determination. The very things she needed now, for the both of them.
She gathered all of her strength and turned the handle. The door clicked and, with a slow agony, it opened. The usual cadence of Tina's heart monitor hit Brittany first. Then the sound of Tina's breathing apparatus pushing oxygen into her lungs. She gently pushed the door closed in case she was still asleep. Brittany rounded the corner and stood at the foot of her best friend's bed. Tina was, in fact, sleeping but her position had changed since she last saw her.
"Hey, Brit," Ashley said, just waking up herself.
"Hey," she breathed. "How's she doing?" Brittany refused to look away.
"Well, she was awake an hour ago," the blond said around a couple of tears. "She kept mumbling your name."
Brittany held back her own tears. "Yeah, I heard. . . I mean your mom said that," she stammered. The tension finally caused her to smile a little. "How have you been holding up?" the captain asked, finally looking at her.
Ashley shrugged. "About as good as I can, I guess. How about you? You haven't been yourself at practice."
"Yeah, I've had a lot of shit going on. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
The smaller blond cocked an eyebrow. "You think you've got it tough? Look at my sister! What kind of fucking Christmas is this! She doesn't even recognize our mother's voice. Whenever she's awake, she keeps asking for YOU! Do you have any idea what that makes me feel like?"
Ashley's outburst took Brittany by surprise. She felt her heart sink even more. She didn't answer that. Rather Ashley's accusing finger pushed her back into the chair against the wall. The older player put her face into her hands, refusing to cry. It wasn't her fault Samantha hit her with that car. It wasn't her fault she was in a coma. Damn it, it wasn't her fault she kept calling out for her best friend and not her sister.
Brittany lifted her head, the anger on her face masking the pain inside. Knowing that look, Ashley immediately backed off. "I'm sorry, Ash. Do you think I wanted this to happen? Tina is my best friend and the only backman on the team that I truly trust. I'm sorry she doesn't mumble your name, but what do you want me to do? Go inside her head and tell her to want you? Huh! Just somehow magically make your sister snap out of her coma? If I could do that I would, but I can't!"
Brittany took a breath to calm herself. She had to remember that Ashley has been living with one less person in the house for a while now. One less person to help her with her playing. One less person sitting at the dinner table. One less person to tell her that everything is going to be okay. Brittany knows all-to-well what that feels like. It isn't right and it isn't fair, but there's not a damn thing she can do about it except suck it up and move on.
Ashley crossed her arms and held herself. She looked down at the floor and spoke with an apologetic tone. "Sorry,Brit. I don't know why I said that. I hate sitting here with her and not being able to do a god damn thing about this. I hate it. I'm losing my mind without my big sister picking on me. I want her to wake up and tell me that my hair looks like shit. Or my clothes make me look like a slut. It sounds weird, but I miss that."
"You know," Brittany started with a lighter tone, "A good friend of mine told me once that if you try to control the things you can't, you'll only drive yourself insane. We can't control what's going on in Tina's head, nor can we control if she'll ever wake up. So don't try."
Ashley refused to look at her. She turned around and slammed her hands against the wall. Crying out of frustration, the young blond went to say something but changed her mind. Instead she took back her chair and propped her head against her hand.
"I'm just so tired, Brit," she finally said. "Tired of waiting for my big sister to wake up, tired of walking around like everything's okay. I'm tired of being tired. I haven't really slept since the day of the accident. I keep seeing her face as she rolled off the hood of that bitch's car. She was so afraid, Brittany. She pushed me out of the way and took it herself. She was afraid for me, after everything we've put each other through, she protected me."
Brittany took a second to keep herself steady. If she were to get up and give her a hug, it would mean another emotional melt-down and, quite frankly, Brittany's had her fill of those already. But that didn't stop her from being a good friend and hear her out. After a minute she said, "Yeah, that's what older siblings do. I told that to Tina once."
Ashley shot her a look. "Told her what?"
"Well, I'm sure you guys own a few Monkey-With-A-Gun movies. Well one of them is about my dad and brother's team on their rise to the Pro level. About how they formed a team as a father-son activity that eventually became the Philadelphia Assassins.
"Anyway, during the shooting of the film, some of the producers and camera crew wanted more of me, but my older brother, Brandon, wouldn't let them. At the time I thought he was hogging the camera to himself, and it pissed me off. I was just coming onto the team that year, and they realized just how good I was. Also about this time I came out of the closet and told my family I'm gay. I can't imagine a worse scenario than not only having a gay sister, but having a younger gay sister play your sport better than you. I lost count of all the fights we got into over it. But to this day, I still don't know what made him do it."
Ashley was listening intently. She and her sister have had several fights about something similar recently. "Do what?"
"Like I said, I thought he was just hogging the camera for himself. Maybe to 'show off for the chicks', as he used to say, or maybe it was to prove he could play better than me, I don't know. But after the movie came out, yes people recognized me, but they had no idea that I was a lesbian. It was then that I realized just how afraid for me he really was." Brittany paused. Thinking back on it now, she could see the fear in Brandon's eyes every time he would talk shit about her, or himself, but he never once used her orientation against her in any fight or argument. "I never got the chance to tell him how thankful I was for that. He and dad died while I was in California. You should be lucky that your sister just might wake up, and tell her for yourself."
Ashley didn't say anything. Her paintball idol, her sports goddess, just spilled her soul out to her; she told the youngster that she is, in fact, human. She's not some immortal being that can dominate the game, not some mythical superstar that can run down the field and not get touched. Ashley realized that Brittany is a normal person, just one that has had to grow-up faster than most. It wasn't an easy pill for the young blond to swallow, but one she must swallow regardless.
"Thank you, Brit," she barely uttered, the sounds of Tina's machines muffling her voice.
"What?"
"I said, thank you, Brit," she repeated louder. "I needed that."
Brittany gestured and said, "Don't worry about it; it's what I do."
Ashley gave a weak smile. Brittany saw her divert her eyes to the door right about the time it clicked open. Ashley eyes lit up even more, Brittany let out a sigh. "How long have you been standing there, mom?"
"Long enough," Mrs. Sanders said, wiping a tear from her cheek. Amanda walked into the room and wrapped her arms around Brittany's shoulders. She kissed her on the top of her head as Brit rubbed her arm. Ashley got a hug from the older Sanders, one that lasted longer than she would have thought, but it still felt nice.
"Where's your mom?" Mrs. Sanders asked once they parted.
"She ran out to get us some lunch. She should be back any minute now." Despite the somber atmosphere of the room, Brittany could see the energy and glow coming back to her star pupil. She did that bouncy-thing again whenever she moved, something that she used to do whenever she thought Brittany was complimenting her. I made her look juvenile, but that's what a fifteen-year-old girl is supposed to look like when she's happy. Brittany couldn't help but smile at her giddiness. And neither could Amanda.
"Oh, Brit, I almost forgot," Ashley started, "Coach was here a little bit ago."
She waited a second, then prompted, "And?"
"Sorry. He told me that the national rankings just got released and we're number one."
Brittany's mom made a fake-surprise gasp. The brunette herself just kind of shrugged. "Honestly, Ash, did you really expect anything less from the number one rated player of our division?" Ashley looked disappointed. At least Amanda thought the vain joke was funny.
"Seriously, Brit, how do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Just go around and everything you touch turns to gold and yet somehow you really don't care? Even Coach was happy to hear the news, hell Curtis nearly pissed himself. How do you do it?"
"When I was playing for Dynasty, Greenspan taught me a very valuable lesson: the worst team in the league can beat the best team on any given day, that's why we play the game. And it turned out to be true. My first game in a Dynasty jersey was against the New Jersey Jesters. Ever hear about them?" Ashley shook her head. "No you haven't because they folded after that year because in the three years they were around, they won only one game. Guess who they beat?"
Ashley's eyes doubled in size. "Are you serious?"
"Very," Mrs. Williams said. "You should have heard her on the phone. That's why she plays like she does, my Brittany simply doesn't lose. And believe me, the guys -- the GUYS -- on her team carved that mindset into her thick skull. It wasn't long after that tournament that she was completely devoted to making a name for herself, out of her father's shadow, and well . . .look at her now."
Brittany blushed a deep crimson at the embarrassment, but it was true. That was the only loss they suffered in the tournament, but it was enough to give her the kick in the ass she needed. "The only thing rankings mean is that we have more bragging rights than everyone else. It's nice to say that we are the number one team in the country, but that's it. Words and numbers decided by a group of people who look at papers full of word and numbers. There will be times when I will doubt we are the best team, as will Coach Wilson. Brian will tell you the same thing."
"Can't you just be happy?" Ashley complained. "We're ranked number one," she said raising her fist. "Go us."
"I told you at the start of the year, I will be happy when we raise that national championship trophy over our heads. Until then, I don't think so."
That settled that. Ashley looked down at her watch. She nervously started tapping her foot. "Something wrong?" Brittany asked.
"Yeah, I'm freaking starving."
A soft voice came into the room that turned Brittany's blood into ice. "Sal. . .stop!" She looked over to Tina. Her head was tilted the other direction, her hands now had a death-grip on the bed rails. "Brittany. . ." Tina mumbled louder.
"Yeah Tina, I'm here," she answered. Brittany tried to hold her hand, but the girl has a damn good grip. "Ashley's here too, hon. So is my mom and Amanda. Your mom will be back in a few minutes."
"Brittany. . ." she uttered again, the soft, hurt tone making her heart break. She looked over to her monitors when they started beeping beeping louder. "Sal. . .no!" Brittany's face went pale. Her pulse was over one-sixty-five and her blood pressure skyrocketed. Even from the back of the room, Mrs. Williams could hear the poor girl grasping for breath.
"Tina! Tina! Wake up now hone. Come on." Brittany padded her cheek, but that only seemed to make matters worse. One-eighty. Amanda stepped in and started rubbing the girl's neck.
"Clear out of here!" came a demanding voice from the door. Ashley turned and left immediately, nearly throwing up. Mrs. Williams followed her to the bathroom. Brittany held tight to Tina's unwavering arms. Amanda continued to rub her neck as though she didn't hear the nurse's demand. "I said get out of here!"
"Tina wake up!" Brittany shouted, fighting off whoever it was that was pulling on her waist. "Get off me! Tina, it's time to wake up now, honey." The monitors were beeping so fast and loud, keeping in time with the unconscious girl's vitals. Two hundred. The oxygen pump had stopped moving. "Get off me! Amanda, make him get off me!" Brittany shouted as she hit the floor. "Tina!" she shouted as she was pulled out of the room by someone a lot stronger than she. The last thing she heard was that terrible sound of the heart monitor stopping.