“No way…no fucking way are you going to die like this. Open your eyes, get your ass up! What kind of ace in the hole are you if you’re just going to let my best friend and your descendent die because of this little piece of steel?!”
Reid wrapped his hand around the hilt of the blade before he could stop himself, ready to pull it out of Caleb’s stomach.
“Wake up right now, or I swear, I’ll nick something when I pull this thing out…I won’t be held responsible!”
Pogue rolled over onto his stomach, his shoulders, elbows, hips and knees screaming in pain. It was almost as intense as he remembered from his days of torture with the Devil they were fighting. He panted, trying to raise himself up to his knees. He didn’t know what was happening, but he feared the worst.
His eyes scanned the ground before falling on the sight of Reid kneeled next to Caleb. He heard the boy’s angry tone and noted the stillness of his best friend’s body.
No, it couldn’t be. Not Caleb.
He ground his teeth together, letting out a hiss of pain as he forced himself up onto his feet- slowly, painstakingly dragging himself closer to where Reid and Caleb were.
“Reid…”
Reid didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge Pogue’s voice. He used his free left hand to thump Caleb’s chest- hard. “Goddamnit, get your ass up! We’re not done here!”
Just as Reid was about to hit out at his friend’s body once more, a cold hand clasped Reid’s, which still held the hilt of the sword in a death grip.
Reid’s gaze fell to Caleb’s face as his eyes flew open, dark and unforgiving. The blonde teen fell backwards in alarm, catching his fall with his hands.
“What the…?!”
Caleb sat up effortlessly, his hand tightening around the hilt as he drew it out of his body in a simple motion. There was no look of pain on his face as he got to his feet, still holding the weapon tightly in his grasp. He stood there like a dark, avenging angel, intimidating enough to keep Pogue and Reid at some distance from him. He didn’t seem to even recognize their presence, his eyes intent on where Stoughton stood, Tyler approaching him with easy strides.
“Thomas?” Reid hesitantly asked, using a hand to help Pogue straighten as he stood himself.
“Not anymore,” came the clear reply, “and he left me with one last parting gift.”
Without another word, Caleb broke into a run, heading straight for Stoughton, his speed beyond all agility and swiftness that any normal human could possess. Reid and Pogue barely had time to comprehend that he was moving before he was right in front of Stoughton and impaling the spirit with his own sword.
Stoughton stumbled back slightly, his eyes wide in shock. They darkened, the loathing on his face escalating to pure wrath. He sneered at Caleb, who still had a firm grip on the sword that was now run clear through the spirit’s body.
“Tyler, now!”
Reid may have been slow to process Caleb’s actions, but those words hit him loud and clear. He abandoned Pogue’s side and broke out into a run towards the trio that stood in the middle of the field. Panic overflowed his system; he couldn’t let Tyler perform the next step.
“You are fools,” Stoughton scoffed. “You think you can be rid of me by running me through with a simple blade?” He moved to run his hand through the steel to demonstrate its ineffectiveness, but his hand touched the edge of the blade, proving its substance. A look of apprehension entered the spirit’s eyes as he found he couldn’t move.
“It’s your blade, so you’re not going anywhere…yet,” Caleb told him in a stoic voice. “And no, we don’t think that will help rid us of you. We have another idea.”
Tyler’s hands rose in front of him, palms up. His eyes momentarily flashed back to their normal shade of grayish-blue, before returning to ebony. His Power was at the ultimate peak for what he could achieve prior to ascension; it was now or never.
Stoughton let out a choked gasp as he felt the uncontrollable pull in Tyler’s direction. At the same time his essence sensed the pull, Caleb yanked the blade out, freeing the spirit to move in the direction it was being forcibly guided. It was obvious Stoughton was trying to fight it, but his path didn’t deter in the least from its direct trail towards Tyler.
Only a few feet separated the spirit and the Mystic now. Tyler’s eyes closed as he felt Stoughton’s combative energy get close to his own body and begin to invade it. Once that happened, Tyler would lose all ability to control himself. The spirit could use him- at least temporarily- to combat his friends.
This was it; these were the last thoughts of his own that he was going to have. Tyler felt his spine go rigid as fear filled his body, attempting to dissuade his actions. He mustn’t be afraid, he had to stay strong…stay focused.
As his soul felt the chilling nudge from the assaulting spirit, he felt his conscience begin to slip away. He forced his focus to go towards a mental image of Amelia, smiling and happy, before that too was lost to him.
Just when it felt as if all of the oxygen in his lungs was being expelled at the heavy presence, and that the right to his own body was being completely crushed, he felt himself falling; the feeling of being able to breathe once more and regain control of himself returning. When he opened his eyes, he was staring at the sky.
Caleb took two steps back, shock on his face as Reid barreled his body into Tyler’s. Reid used his mental ability to shatter Tyler’s concentration on claiming Stoughton into himself. When the initial host lost control, Reid seized it, immediately feeling Stoughton’s spirit fill him inside and out. He had invaded the space Tyler had needed to perform that particular function, and became the new host.
His control and conscious gone, Stoughton snarled as he opened his eyes, now inside of the body of a seventeen-year-old boy. It was unfamiliar territory and he despised it. He had no idea what was going on, but he knew that he now was officially corporeal, he was also officially vulnerable.
“Reid,” Caleb whispered, his grip on the sword lessening. This act of sacrifice he had *not* been expecting. His own ancestor had taken the fatal wound that Stoughton had delivered to him, into himself, leaving Caleb to heal and awaken with the remnants of Thomas’ Powers and knowledge. He was aware of what he had missed and what was going to happen, but he thought that Tyler was going to draw Stoughton into himself as Pogue’s ancestor had taught him, not Reid. He had been ready to do what Tyler and the rest of them needed him to do, no matter how much it hurt him, but this was an unexpected twist. Reid…the stubborn idiot. He wasn’t prepared for this.
Reid’s body turned on Caleb, his face filled with the familiar, hateful visage Stoughton normally wore. Caleb took a few steps backwards, regaining his hold on the sword, knowing it was his one mortal defense. The sudden thought of healing Reid once Stoughton was gone came to him, but his dim hopes of that were quickly dashed when he reminded himself that to be rid of Stoughton completely, a soul had to accompany the magistrate’s spirit out of this world. If Reid was technically dead, Caleb couldn’t bring him back.
He couldn’t bring back the dead.
“Goddamn you, Reid,” Caleb muttered, shaking his head. “Why’d you do this?”
“You are weak,” Stoughton sneered in Reid’s low voice, advancing on the older boy. “You cannot do it. You cannot take the life of your comrade. Because of that, *I* will win.”
Tyler sat up, watching with perplexed eyes as Reid headed towards Caleb with a menacing aire. What was going on? Where was Stoughton? Why was he so confused, he couldn’t even think straight?
“Don’t,” Caleb bit out, his eyes warning as he raised the blade. He remembered Thomas’ warning- they only had a matter of a few minutes before Stoughton would be loose again. Maybe they should just wait it out, let Stoughton’s spirit release Reid and then battle him. However, as he contemplated those desperate thoughts, he knew better. It wouldn’t work…this was the only way.
Stoughton raised Reid’s hand, looking at it as he flexed it into a fist and relaxed the muscles. “Such potential power. I should keep this body so that I might better carry out my crusade, what do you think?” His eyes flashed, and a long gash appeared down Reid’s right arm, blood immediately swelling and oozing from the wound.
Caleb growled in response at the malicious act against his friend’s body. Reid may not be conscious of what was going on, but he sure as hell wouldn’t let Stoughton mar his body. Not to mention, Reid would come back to seriously kick his ass if Caleb didn’t take the opportunity Reid had made sure to provide for the group. He didn’t do this for nothing. Reid was counting on this- that fact alone just intensifying the ache in Caleb’s heart.
“We’ve had all we’re going to take from you,” Caleb warned in a pensive voice, once he was able to regain it. “I know for a fact that I’m speaking for Reid when I say, eat steel.” Forcing his mind to go blank, Caleb brought his arm back, using his lightning speed to pierce the sword through Reid’s gut. Agony bit at him as he watched his friend’s eyes widen in shock, then fill with pain.
“Caleb!”
Caleb registered Pogue’s distressed cry as he released his hold on the sword and took a step back, tears immediately filling his eyes. Reid’s body fell to his knees, lingering in a sagging position a moment before he tipped over onto his left side, a gasping breath leaving his lips along with two words.
“Not…possible…”
Pogue stumbled in his extreme efforts to reach the boys before it was too late. He knew immediately his attempt failed. After seeing Reid fall by Caleb’s hand, blind rage took over, changing his body’s direction from where Reid now lay motionless on the ground to where Caleb stood a few feet away. He rammed his body into his friend’s, and the unexpected action threw Caleb off balance, sending them both to the ground.
Pogue grabbed him the shoulders and slammed his upper body down into the hard ground. Caleb’s eyes closed upon the impact, his teeth rattling in his head from it. He tried to grip Pogue’s arms, to hold him off of him so that he could explain, but his best friend wasn’t giving him much opportunity. Rage and betrayal filled his demeanor, and it was those same emotions that were behind the right hook that he delivered to the older boy’s face.
“Are you out of your fuckin’ mind?! It’s Reid, you psychotic son-of-a-bitch! What did you do?!”
Amelia let out a sob, Samantha on her heels as she raced as fast as she could over the field and towards the exact location she felt they would be. She heard Pogue’s angry voice before she caught sight of any of them, but as she cleared a small grove of trees that outlined a western portion of the land, she beheld a sight that numbed her emotions completely.
Tyler looked over towards Reid, who fell only a couple of feet away from where he continued to sit on the ground, regaining his badly shaken bearings. “Reid?” he asked, his voice distant. “Hey…get up, dude…we have to finish off Stoughton.”
Reid laid there, blood trickling out of his mouth and into the brown grass as his dull eyes stared at the two girls that were headed in his direction. He blinked, a sliver of joy filling his failing heart. Amelia…
Caleb tasted blood, but ignored it, instead trying to meet Pogue’s intense gaze to snap him out of his fit of fury.
“Stoughton possessed his body…I had to…”
“Like hell!” was the clipped response, which confirmed to Caleb that at least Pogue had heard him through the crimson veil that was surrounding his senses.
“I did…that was the plan. It wasn’t supposed to be Reid...it was supposed to be Tyler.”
This statement caused Pogue to blink, confusion entering his eyes just enough to dispel some of the ire.
“That couldn’t have been the plan. They would have told me.” Pogue paused, his breathing still hard from the adrenaline rush. “This was *not* the plan.”
“No, it wasn’t. Now get off of me so we can talk to Reid while there’s time.”
That did it. Pogue released Caleb and slid off of the young man’s legs, allowing him room to get up. Both of them turned towards Reid just in time to see Amelia collapse next to him, cradling his head in her lap, tears streaming down her face.
“Reid…oh, no, Reid. No.”
Her trembling fingertips lightly touched his face, before brushing away the blood that ran from his mouth and down his face.
“Please…please, not you…”
Reid slowly blinked, a faint smile coming to his lips. “H-Hey, Princess…”
A few of her tears sprinkled his forehead as she leaned down and kissed him, ignoring the blood that still seeped from his mouth.
“Hang in there,” she whispered to him. “Don’t talk, just…live.”
Caleb swallowed hard as he realized that his friend was still alive, but barely. His eyes went black as he reached out towards Reid, to analyze how his body was running.
It wasn’t.
It was by sheer force of will that Reid was still talking to her. They only had moments left…
And there was nothing that he could do.
“Caleb.”
His sorrowful eyes moved to her face. She stared at him with so much helplessness that it made his heart want to break. She didn’t even have to speak to relay to him what she was silently praying for. How could he tell her that it was something that even he couldn’t give? He couldn’t save his parents, and now Reid…
Caleb shook his head briefly, his eyes forced away from her desperate gaze as shame filled him. It wasn’t fair. He had thought he could handle this…he couldn’t.
“You have to do something!” she implored in a tearfully demanding voice that cut through the boys’ hearts like a knife. “Don’t let him die this way!”
“I can’t save him!” came the rugged reply. “Not without giving Stoughton leeway to return and threaten us or future generations again.”
“So let him!” she cried, completely abandoning her rationale. “It’s not worth Reid’s life!”
Sam kneeled down behind Amelia, putting a hand on her shoulder, tears staining her own face, though she was keeping her sobs at bay. She hadn’t been prepared for this either, this wasn’t right…this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Pogue’s eyes closed at Amelia and Caleb’s emotional exchange of words while Reid’s life hung on by a thread. “Stop,” he finally managed to say, opening his eyes once more to look at his fallen best friend. “Focus.”
Amelia bit her lip, looking away from Caleb and back down at Reid. She continued stroking his forehead, brushing his blonde hair away from his eyes. Her tone changed to a tearful whisper, her words only for Reid now.
“You have to stay…you have to be here for Justus. He needs his father. Just send Stoughton on his way, and stay here with us.”
A soft sigh left Reid’s lips as his muscles went even limper than they were before. He felt himself slipping away, and he was trying to desperately to hold on.
“I wish I could…but this won’t be so bad. You won’t have to worry about….me corrupting him…just promise me one thing.”
“Anything,” she sobbed, bringing her face down closer to his once more, so she was sure to hear everything he was going to say.
Reid’s eyes glazed over somewhat. “W-When they tell Justus about me…make sure he doesn’t hear a-all of the bad stories, okay…?”
Amelia shook her head, squeezing her eyes closed tightly, wishing with all of her might that this right now wasn’t real.
“I’ll tell him all about you. He’ll love you as much as I do, if not more. I promise.” With that, she shifted slightly, gently taking his lax hand and putting it against her belly so that he could feel the movement within.
Reid smiled wider, his eyelids becoming heavier. “Thank you. Tell the...guys I would d-do this all over again f-for their…sorry butts…”
Amelia looked up at Pogue and Caleb, who had eased themselves closer to their friend, their faces masks of grief. Reid had no idea that they were here, hearing every word he said.
Samantha quickly moved over to where her brother still sat, perplexed, shifting him so that he was closer to Reid. She put Tyler’s hand over Reid’s free one, watching as Tyler’s hand instinctively tightened around his friend’s. This seemed to pull Tyler out of his daze more, his eyes focusing on where his hand covered Reid’s.
“Reid…?” Tyler asked softly.
“I will,” Amelia whispered to Reid, her Power rising and channeling out of her into Reid so that he could feel embraced by love. She had to do it- on behalf of herself, the guys, and his unborn son.
“I-I can’t believe…it *is* starting to get dark…but it’s warm…I’m okay…”
“No,” Amelia whispered, unable to break her futile attempts at keeping Reid with them. She couldn’t let him go. “Don’t go.”
“I-I…hate being…cliché here…with last words…but I love…”
The group knew they lost Reid the moment it happened. The dull look in his eyes turned positively lifeless. The absence of his spirit was crystal clear and painstakingly tragic.
Sam’s head dropped to her brother’s shoulder, her eyes closing as she began to cry softly. Amelia continued to hold Reid tightly against her, her body wracked with choked sobs- inconsolable and violent. She stared past Caleb into the peaceful darkness of the sky. Pogue closed his eyes and put his head in his hand, silently cursing the world and Reid for doing something so stupid. Caleb just stared at his friend with remorse shadowing his face. He so wished that he could be in Reid’s place right now, instead of being in the land of the living, staring at the agony of death.
Tyler clutched Reid’s hand so tightly, his knuckles turned white. He ground his teeth together, knowing full well his friend was gone. He still didn’t understand what happened or why it had happened, but he did know that it wasn’t fair. He was supposed to give his life, not Reid.
Not Reid.
Pogue moved stoically forward, pulling the sword out of Reid without so much as a word. He stood, the sword still in his hands, moving several yards away from the group.
Caleb turned his head to watch as Pogue set the blade on his open palms, letting his Power surge a moment before the blade shattered a second later, leaving nothing left but the hilt of it. Pogue bent down to pick it up before bringing his arm back and throwing it into the air with all of his might.
It flew a good distance, Caleb noted, but he lent his Power to the velocity of the hilt, sending it propelling twice as far as it would have gone should he not have aided its travel. Pogue looked at Caleb, giving him a brief nod, before walking over to stand beside Amelia, who still hovered over Reid’s body, quietly begging for him to come back.
Caleb got to his feet slowly, moving himself over towards where Tyler stared at his best friend with blank eyes. He hadn’t processed it yet, that would come later. Caleb knew from experience. Instead of getting the boy’s attention to draw him away from Reid, he just stood there, silently honoring the passing of one of the bravest people he had ever known. His last act, his last sacrifice…well, it put the rest of them to shame. Shame that Caleb knew would not be quick to pass.
After a few minutes turned into a fifteen minutes, and the air had become about ten degrees colder, Pogue leaned down, touching Amelia’s shoulder.
“Amelia…we have to go.”
“No, we’re not leaving him.”
Pogue winced at the severe tone of her voice. He was starting to think he was as likely to move her away from Reid as it was for the sun to rise in the next five minutes. Since both scenarios seemed so unlikely, he looked at Caleb for advice, but the ascended teen hadn’t a clue what to do next. He felt truly helpless.
Tyler now stood with the older boy, his expression one of defeat and anguish. He stared at his best friend, his gaze unwavering. Now what did they do? An arm had been severed, they were no longer whole. It created an empty place in their world that they had no desire to have exist at all.
--------------------
Amelia just lay there, staring at the ceiling for the fourth hour in a row. Her body ached head to foot, her spirit and willpower weak and dormant.
She clutched her pillow against her chest tighter, still thinking about Reid. This house was now so quiet, so wrong without him. Each time she woke up from another restless sleep, she had hoped she’d hear his voice or see his head poke inside her bedroom door and say ‘Good morning’. No, she wasn’t that lucky. Their previous nightmare had been exchanged for one that left her even colder and emptier inside.
It had been two days since Reid had died out on that field, and three days since they’d lost Mr. Parry and Mrs. Danvers. Her parents were still staying at the Danvers’ house, but Amelia had no desire to see them. She knew that they worried about her, but the only faces she ever wished to see had been Pogue’s and Tyler’s. Caleb had come in to see her a couple of times, but for the most part, he kept his distance from her. Samantha had also lent her support, the younger girl doing a supreme job at holding her own pain at the loss of Reid at bay for Amelia’s sake.
Amelia never asked or expected the boys to hold back the pain they felt at Reid’s passing. She knew she wasn’t the only one grieving, she knew that their pain must be greater- they had known Reid almost the whole of their lives. However, it didn’t take much for Amelia to break down, so the guys had tried to be as strong as they could be in her presence, actually surprised by how Reid Garwin’s death was affecting her.
Samantha had turned the Danvers’ mansion into her second home since the battle. She made it her goal and ambition to make sure Amelia ate, slept, and didn’t make herself ill. Amelia noticed that she seemed to take that task very seriously, and was curious which of the boys- or perhaps her mother- had put her up to it. Strangely enough, Sam seemed to know just the right times to try talking to her and pushing the health and nutrition issue. The guys were more concerned about Amelia than themselves, despite the fact she told them that she had no intention of doing anything to endanger the babies. She was even more protective and guarded where they were concerned, now.
In only two days time, her belly had extended to the expanse a normal woman in her sixth month of pregnancy would be showing. Initially, Amelia had panicked. Her parents had no idea she was pregnant, but Anna had assured her during one of their little talks that no one but those who already knew she was pregnant, would see her rounded stomach. When she mentioned that to Caleb, he was confused, finally deducing that Anna must be using some kind of glamour on her to hide her true appearance. Amelia wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but she also knew she couldn’t handle her parents’ panic or questions…not then. She had to prepare.
Reid’s wake was that night.
Amelia closed her eyes, taking in a shaky breath. She knew she wasn’t ready for this, but she also knew she had to be there. For Reid, for his memory. It was going to be an open casket- which she was grateful for- and she craved one last look at his handsome face.
She had put aside her overpowering grief yesterday long enough to attend the memorial services for Wayne Parry and Evelyn Danvers, on both Pogue and Caleb’s respective arms. She was there for them, locking up her agony tightly into a little box that she wasn’t going to reopen until she was safe back at Caleb’s house, where all four of them were still staying.
Wayne’s memorial had just been the Covenant, her parents and Tyler’s family. It was small, but nice. Pogue just stood there in a suit that he looked as uncomfortable as hell wearing, his face stoic as a priest said some words about his father. It was general and subdued- not overly emotional. The one person that seemed to be taking it the hardest was actually Mr. Sims, but even he held it together well. They got through that ordeal and left the rural cemetery where Mr. Parry was to be buried, before the vault was even lowered into the ground. Amelia speculated that seeing his father buried six feet under might have even broke Pogue, but she stayed silent on the matter, not pushing him or his emotions. She just held his hand, which he gratefully gripped the entire time.
Evelyn’s funeral had been something more of a public affair. It had taken place a couple of hours after Wayne’s, in a large church at the end of Green Street. It felt like the whole town had showed up, or at least the more influential members of older age. This funeral was almost more unbearable than Wayne’s, the never-ending, empty words of condolence aimed at Caleb still ringing in her ears. She felt for him. He had put on a brave front the entire time, shaking each and every hand, and allowing dozens of red-lipped kisses on his cheek from elderly women. When he finally said goodbye to his mother, he had wept like a man- dignified and sparse. She knew how he had truly felt inside. A dam was breaking in his heart, but only a bit was leaking out for others to see. That was all right…it was how Caleb dealt with his final goodbye to his mother.
By this time, the coroner had also given Caleb his report. Evelyn had died of natural causes, a heart attack. She wasn’t sure if Caleb truly believed it, but he seemed to accept it. What else could he do? The enemy was gone, they had to now deal with the painful aftermath.
As for the relationship between Caleb and Amelia…it felt as if there was an unspoken understanding between them that they had to shove aside their disquieted emotions from the night of Evelyn’s death. Amelia still felt wary around the older boy, but with each passing day, she felt a little more comfortable with him. They hadn’t discussed what had happened, and honestly, Amelia preferred that. Why dig up bitterness from the past when there was still so much they were dealing with at present? She remained at his side and never withdrew her support, even if she was slightly less available for it than before.
She was too wrapped up in her own pain. As selfish as it felt at moments, it was all she could focus on. A couple of times, Tyler had come to her and they had just held each other, consoling one another by presence and touch. Poor Tyler was taking it as hard as Amelia- even worse, considering Reid had been his best friend. His eyes were often red-rimmed from tears he spilled in private, and he never shed them in front of her. He simply let her do that for the both of them.
Surprisingly enough, the person that lent her the most comfort in all of this wasn’t Pogue, wasn’t Caleb, wasn’t her parents, wasn’t Sam…it was Tyler. She shared his feelings of agonizing loss, and they were satisfied just to lay curled up in bed together without saying a word…just thinking of Reid and everything he had been to them- to the entire Covenant. However, tears and dreams for what could have been would not bring him back, and that was a reality that slapped them in the face every waking moment.
Burying Caleb and Pogue’s parents had been easy in comparison to what was to come. Amelia rolled over, staring at the notebook that lay at her side. She slowly picked up her pen, staring at the splotches of ink that were blurred from her tears. She wasn’t finished with this…she had to finish. Something deep down compelled her to do so.
Pen to paper, fresh tears began to fall as her words continued on down the page. Ten minutes later, she had taken a short break in writing, when someone knocked on her door.
She quickly ran her arm across her eyes to rid them of most of the moisture there, before answering in a flat tone. “Come in.”
Pogue walked in slowly, his heart dropping as he saw his fiancée curled up on the bed with such a distraught look on her face. Her eyes and nose were red and her cheeks splotchy from tears. She had looked fine the day before when they had gone out to both funerals, but it was like just coming back to this house gave her emotions full reign to run the gauntlet again. He despised seeing her like this. He wanted more than anything to take her pain away.
“Hey…you have a visitor.”
She looked confused, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Who?”
“Well, he says he knows you from school, and Tyler vouches for him. I was ready to throw him out on his ear, but…”
“Chris?” she guessed, unsure as to why his name came instantly into her mind. She hadn’t seen him in days, not since she had taken her fall at Spenser. “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know, he won’t tell me. He just wants to see you. Should I let him in or not? I’ll be glad to kick his ass out for you, he knows this is a grieving household,” he muttered, slipping a hand into his jeans pocket.
Amelia shook her head, a part of her happy that Chris had thought enough of her to come and visit. “He can come in.”
Pogue hesitated in the doorway a moment. “Do you need anything?”
Amelia shook her head, putting down her notebook and sitting up to appear slightly more presentable. She didn’t really care that Chris saw her like this, but maybe it was just the girl in her that involuntarily made her want to seem less sluggish.
“No, thanks, baby,” she whispered, giving him a faint smile. He returned it with a brief one of his own before stepping back and letting Chris into the room.
Chris’ face shone with uncertainty, like he had been arguing with himself on whether or not this was a good idea. He carried his guitar case in his hand and offered Amelia an apologetic grin as he saw her. There were red streaks in his hair that day.
“This is really bad timing, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Pogue muttered from behind Chris, the same time Amelia said, “No.” She tilted her head, giving Pogue a look, which made him hold up his hands in surrender.
“I’ll leave you two alone…but I’ll be nearby.” He closed the door behind Chris, hesitating outside in the hallway a long moment before forcing himself down the hall.
Chris glanced back quickly as Pogue left before looking back at Amelia. “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Amelia replied in a hushed voice, clearing her throat to give it more volume. “We were lucky and found him.”
“Oh…that’s great,” Chris nodded, standing there awkwardly. He couldn’t ignore the fact that she looked terrible, and felt badly about intruding on her. He was unsure as to why he felt the urge to visit her, but he could hardly get away from hearing her name mentioned at school.
All day that day the students- which were surprisingly acting like they had character and individuality- were abuzz with the news of the surprising deaths that had rocked Ipswich over the holiday weekend. When he had heard someone mention that one of the most prestigious students, Reid Garwin, had died, the name had struck a familiar chord in him. He asked a girl in his Lit class about him, and she had informed him that Reid had always hung around with three other students that were at the top of their class and the top of the food chain, so to speak. She had also mentioned the new blonde girl that hung out with them, and that’s when Chris knew exactly who all the gossip was about. Instinctively, he worried about her, especially since he’d hardly been able to take him mind off of her since her fall that day in class.
As soon as school was out, he grabbed his guitar and hightailed it over to the Danvers place. Apparently, every person in Ipswich knew where the family lived. He thought he’d start there, and as it turned out, his search also ended there. The boy who had opened the door, evidently Amelia’s mysterious boyfriend, seemed less than pleased that he was there, but then he had caught sight of Tyler and the younger boy invited him in.
Now he was in Amelia’s room and felt as awkward as hell. He wasn’t used to dealing with death, or grieving people. However, he knew he had to try. She sure seemed like she could use the distraction.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, pulling him out of his thoughts.
“What am I…? Oh! Well, I-I heard about your friend, Reid, today at school. There’s actually going to be no school tomorrow so that students and faculty can go to his funeral, but I don’t know, I just felt the…” he struggled with the right word, “…urge to check on you. He seemed awfully worried about you that day at school last week, so…”
His words caused fresh tears to brim her eyes, as she closed them and looked down at the messed-up bedspread. Any recollections of Reid when he had been alive were still so painful for her.
Chris winced. He said something wrong. He knew it; he was going to botch this. “I’m sorry…that’s why I’m here, to say how sorry I am. I offered my condolences to Tyler and your boyfriend, but I’m not sure they wanted to hear them.”
“We’re still raw,” she sniffled, forcing herself to pull it together. “It doesn’t take much to send me over the edge, don’t apologize.”
Chris took a couple more steps towards the bed. He slowly set down his guitar case and crossed his arms uneasily in front of him. “What can I do?”
She smiled, his concern touching her deeply. “Short of bringing someone back from the dead, I haven’t a clue. Why’d you bring your guitar?” she asked, grabbing yet another Kleenex and wiping at her nose. Engaged or not, she didn’t like looking and feeling so gross in front of any guy.
“I’m not sure, to tell you the truth. I mean…she begged me to bring her with,” he replied, giving her a coy grin.
It instantly boosted her spirits. She let out a short laugh. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah, well…she can be pretty outspoken most of the times. Sometimes I’m in the mood for a little bit of rock, she wants country. I want to work on my blues, she has more of a mindset for folksy stuff. It’s a love-hate relationship.”
Amelia giggled in spite of herself. “I don’t seem to have that problem with piano.”
“Pianos are submissive. This baby here-“ he patted the side of the brown case- “she’s a dominatrix.”
Actually letting out a snort of laughter, Amelia clapped a hand over her mouth. Chris’ smile got wider at the realization that he could cheer her up. He put a hand on one of the bed posts, leaning against it.
“How have you been coping?”
“I don’t know if I have been coping, Chris. The minutes never end, the days have been dragging on. Tonight is Reid’s wake, and I…I can’t help but feel like I owe him something more…like there is something left unfinished. It’s a terrible feeling.”
“I can imagine…actually, I can’t. I’ve never lost anyone close to me before, but it’s bound to happen to me sometime.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, wondering what to say next. Humor had its place, but he didn’t want her to think he just came there to make lightly of everything. Her life seemed to be far from lighthearted right now.
Amelia’s eyes darkened somewhat. “How’s school? You said the students were talking about…”
“Oh, right! That’s a really strange thing, actually. You know that strange, pod-person phenomena the school seemed to be under siege with?”
“Yeah,” Amelia spoke slowly, pulling her legs up closer to her body, which wasn’t much considering the width of her belly.
“Well, they are actually acting like they have personalities…at least, I assume so, since I really didn’t know them before I showed up last week. However, my cousin Aaron…bad news there,” he mumbled, his eyes darkening with frustration.
“What? What happened?”
“He’s the same old asshole. There was no wonder cure for him.”
She smiled at his reply. “You can’t expect miracles. As for the rest of the students…maybe it was just a phase they had to snap out of. Hopefully now it will be a little easier for you to make friends.”
“I could care less, actually,” Chris shrugged. “I’ve made one friend, and that’s good enough for me. You’re quality people, I can tell. As long as I have one person in my cramped- but comfy- corner, and my guitar, I’m an easily satisfied camper.” Pausing, Chris quirked a brow as he looked at her studiously. “You are in my corner, right?”
“Of course,” Amelia replied softly, shifting a bit on the bed. As she did so, the covers she had pulled up partly around her middle shifted, exposing her rounded abdomen. She didn’t think anything of it, until she saw Chris’ eyes widen and his jaw drop open.
“What?”
He blinked, looking even closer at her. “Um…not to be rude, but is it just my imagination, or do you have a small animal of some kind hidden beneath that sweatshirt of yours? Not to get too personal or anything…”
She looked down, immediately realizing what he was referring to. The babies were kicking up a storm, and that fact was extremely evident by anyone who was close enough to her without her stomach being more concealed. But how did Chris know she was pregnant? She didn’t remember ever telling him…
She didn’t even get to ask him. He broke into her line of thought before she could utter a word.
“I thought you miscarried. Or did you just have a really, really huge meal before I showed up and not wait until it stopped struggling before you swallowed it?”
“I didn’t miscarry,” she mumbled, her mouth going dry. “I’m extremely pregnant…I didn’t think you knew.”
“Your friend told me you were pregnant and your fall caused you to miscarry…this was last week, the last time I saw you. But then you were really…” he seemed to be struggling to find the words, his hands gesturing in front of him- illustrating his difficulty, “flat in front, but now you’re…”
“Gee, thanks,” she retorted, slightly offended. It wasn’t bad enough she couldn’t hide her pregnancy from him, now he was talking as if she had no curves between her neck and waist…well, not the ones she minded, anyway.
“I didn’t mean that! You have a great figure! I just meant…how can you be so huge? No, that didn’t come out right either. Jesus, just lift me up now,” he cursed, turning away from her as sheer embarrassment escalated within him. “This is exactly why I’m single.”
Amelia took a deep breath, remaining calm so that it might also help Chris. She couldn’t explain all of this to him; a part of her wished she could. The less secrets she had from people, the better. However, letting him in the know was simply not in the cards. For now, she had to come up with the easiest to believe story as she could.
“I lucked out. It was dicey there for a while, but with good medical care, they were able to keep the baby inside and safe. I was…farther along than I appeared when you saw me last and now…” her voice trailed off. She *couldn’t* falsify anything that wouldn’t sound completely absurd. “Chris, you’re just going to have to take this one at face value. I could honestly pop at any moment, but I’m hoping fate won’t be that cruel. After we bury Reid tomorrow…” her eyes saddened at the words, “I’m just going to live minute by minute. Hopefully the worst is over.”
Chris just nodded, not speaking for a long moment. “I won’t pry and you definitely don’t have to worry about me gossiping. That’s her trick,” he jerked his thumb in the direction of his guitar case.
“She gossips?”
“She can be ruthless, I told you,” Chris smirked. “She says all kinds of things she shouldn’t say when I have her out and am playing her. Oh!” he snapped his fingers, his eyes lighting up as he remembered something. “You know that girl Kate?”
Amelia’s stomach immediately knotted up at the mention of her. Kate hadn’t even crossed her mind over the duration of the last few days. Just hearing her name brought back all kinds of thoughts…most of them bittersweet and harsh.
“Yes.”
“She actually came up to me today and talked to me…civilly, albeit a little skittish. She wanted to know if I had talked to you and if you were okay.”
Pain surged through Amelia at the notion of her best friend speaking of her in anything but a hateful tone and with despised words. After the whole ordeal with Stoughton, the group had been so wiped and wrapped up in grieving for Reid that the thought of the students being free of the spirit’s manipulations had completely evaded their minds.
“She seemed…nice?”
“Contrite. Contrite is a good word. She couldn’t stand still while she talked to me, looking ready to bolt for the bathroom at any second. Either she had some major bladder issues, talking to me was making her nauseous, or she was actually scared to speak to me. I don’t think of myself as intimidating, but after our last little discussion, I can understand why she might be hesitant to talk to me. Anyway, yes, she did seem worried about you.”
Amelia stared into space as the thought of potentially reuniting with her ex best friend ran through her mind. She had given up hope long ago, but at the same time knew she’d jump on any chance to reconcile with her after Stoughton was dealt with. Now all was said and done, she wasn’t sure if reconciliation was in the cards. Not because she was afraid Kate wouldn’t want her for a friend again, but because she wasn’t sure she wanted *Kate* as a friend again. Mind control or not, Kate had cut her too deeply to be able to forget everything bad that had happened since she heard the girl’s first round of biting, cruel accusations.
Considering the fact that Amelia felt scarred by so much presently, her defenses were- and would remain- up and active. For how long, she didn’t know.
“Okay. Thanks for letting me know,” she replied, her voice slightly cool in tone. It was enough to cause Chris to look at her oddly.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“No. The subject of Kate and myself, though, is a tricky one. So can we please bypass that for now?”
“Yeah, sure…whatever you’d like.”
Amelia sniffled, reaching her hand down to retrieve another tissue. When her hand hit the box, she sighed. This was the second box she had gone through that day alone. Oh, well, thank goodness for the two spare boxes she had on her nightstand.
She shifted, reaching over to grab another box, which was just out of her reach. Chris noticed what she was doing and headed around the bed to grab it for her, but a second later she managed to hook onto it with her fingers, but not before her notebook went falling to the floor at Chris’ feet.
“Oops,” Amelia replied, starting to lean down to retrieve that as well, but her range of motion was extremely limited in her current condition.
“It’s okay, I got it.” Chris bent down and picked up the notebook, which had fallen open on Amelia’s current writing. He couldn’t help but let his eyes skim over some of what she had written, noticing the blurred areas but finding it easy enough to read around them. He kept the notebook in his hand, his green eyes moving down the page while Amelia waited with her hand held out for her property.
“Chris,” she urged, realizing that he was reading what no one but herself had ever laid eyes on before. It felt like a huge invasion on her privacy, especially considering when she wrote, it tended to come from an unknown source inside of her. She didn’t have to think for the words to write themselves, and to have them exposed to someone else made her feel even more vulnerable than she already was…which she didn’t think was currently possible. “Please, give it to me.”
Her voice snapped him out of his reading daze, as he quickly looked up at her. However, he still held the notebook in his hand, absolutely floored by what he had read. This girl had talent…possibly way more than him.
“Chris,” she urged again in a stricter voice, stretching her hand out towards him more. “Give it back.”
“This is good,” he told her in a soft voice, seeing the blonde girl straining towards him in an all new light. “This is really good.”
Her cheeks flushed with sudden discomfiture. He *had* read it. She should be furious- she should be mortified! But was what he was saying to her truly bad?
“You think so,” she stated in a deadpan voice, void of question. She was waiting for criticism at any moment…at him to laugh at her open pain. No, she realized almost immediately, he wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t in his nature; at least she didn’t believe it was.
“Yeah, I really do. I take it you just wrote this?”
She shifted a bit on the bed, letting her arm drop back to her side. What was the point? He had already read the page. “Yeah…writing is an outlet for me.”
“Me, too,” he confessed with a nod, “but my outlet is never this charged…this polished. You wrote in pen, meaning that you had no rough draft, I take it. Your original words came out this clean and smooth and they fit together excellently. That’s real talent. Most songwriters go through dozens of drafts before they have their finished product.”
“Oh,” she let out a faint laugh, “I’m not a songwriter. They’re just words…unfinished words.”
“Words that are perfect for song, Amelia. It should be easy to finish them. Here.” He handed her the notebook before going over to his guitar case and opening it up, pulling out his ebony pride and joy. He grabbed the chair from the desk against the other wall and dragged it over to the bedside, sitting down and quickly tuning his guitar. It didn’t take long, as he had been messing with it earlier that morning.
“How’s your voice?”
“My voice?” she asked, looking at him in confusion.
“Yeah. Do you sing?”
“Oh, no,” she shook her head adamantly. “I don’t sing. I tend to sound like a wounded cat when I try, so I don’t try. Ever.”
“Okay, then, let me take a crack at it,” he grinned, holding his hand back out. “That cool with you?”
Amelia hesitated for only a moment before handing her very prized and private spiral of thoughts and emotions. He set it in front of him on her bed, only a few inches from her knee, and began to play a few chords.
At first, it didn’t sound like anything. She just watched Chris with fascination as his face changed to one of complete concentration and contemplation. His brow arched and fell as he worked through what chord progressions sounded right to him, and he hummed lightly as he toyed with the strings.
Amelia was awestruck watching him throughout this process. She had always felt like her own tinkering around with her notebook and the piano was rather monotonous and boring, but the way Chris was going through the motions next to her, made her feel like she was actually watching something special develop. It was amazing to her.
“So what would you think of me now…” Chris sang in a low, soft voice, his eyes closed as he played.
Shivers went up Amelia’s spine. He had a nice voice, a soothing voice. She had a feeling it could change for whatever kind of song he was playing at the time, but it fit perfectly for what she had written. And to hear her words on his lips…it was surreal to her. That he was taking what she wrote so seriously and spending time working with it meant a lot to her.
She was extremely grateful to Chris for that.
He stopped after about forty minutes of playing with her words and his chords. In that short time, it had evolved into a beautiful melody, shining even more with the lending of Chris’ voice. It brought fresh tears to her eyes, but they weren’t so much tears of pain as they were tears of yearning. She missed Reid…desperately.
Chris finally stopped playing after going through all of her words, helping her insert a line or two to complete the work. He had actually formed her poetry-prose into a song.
“I tell you, this would sound awesome with piano accompaniment.”
She cleared her throat, forcing the lump that had instilled there to vanish. “I can play a little.”
“The chords are really simple. I can write out the notes for you, and considering what I heard you play that day in the music room, I think you can handle it.” He paused. “You wrote this for Reid, didn’t you?”
Her eyes locked on his as she mutely nodded. She had. It was completely for him.
Chris’ expression softened as he lowered his arm, leaning over the instrument slightly. “Do you know what I think?”
“What do you think?” she whispered.
“I think you should play this at his funeral tomorrow.”
She blinked; completely shocked that he would suggest such a thing. Her, in public, performing this song in front of so many strangers’ skeptical eyes? Yeah, right…maybe when Reid came back from the dead to hear the song himself.
“I can’t.”
“Yeah, I think you can.”
“No, I *can’t*. I’m not going to know anyone there besides the guys and maybe some people from school. Reid’s father is flying in with his wife early tomorrow morning to be at the funeral, and from what I’ve heard about him, I’m already as intimidated as hell by him…and I haven’t even met him. I’ve barely been able to keep myself together the past couple of days, what makes you think I can keep contain myself in front of everyone playing the piano- which I don’t do well at *all*- for words that I’ve written that were never meant for anyone’s eyes but *mine*?”
Chris was silent a moment, considering the girl in front of him. He could tell she was terrified at the idea, but something in him- something deep down- knew that she could pull this off, and potentially find it therapeutic. Besides, he’d be with her, and he would punch anyone’s lights out that dared criticize her beautiful tribute. Chris only wished most people were so lucky to have such beautiful words written about them to be shared when they passed on from this world.
“It’s ultimately your decision, you know. I’m not going force you into it. I do believe that your friend is with you in spirit, and it’d be good for the both of you to do this.”
“Then I can do it privately without an audience,” she countered, her mind still numb at the notion of what he was presenting.
A slow smile spread across his face. “I’ve admired your spunk since I first met you, Amelia, even though you seemed to be afraid of your own shadow more times than not.”
She went slightly red in embarrassment, looking away from him.
“But,” he continued, emphasizing the word, “I also think you’ll blow away all of the prissy blowhards in this town by showing that you’re one of the only ones there for Reid, and not a poser. What do you think?”
She let out a shaky breath, unsure of what to think. The prospect was terrifying- she was no performer- but it would be for Reid and herself, not for everyone else’s sake. Staying shut up in that room with the babies ready to come any day wasn’t healthy for her, she knew that. She needed to find another way to grieve, just as she had pushed Caleb to seek out his sorrow in a healthier manner than just locking it all up inside. She owed it to herself…she owed it to Reid.
It was for Reid.
“Okay,” she whispered, hoping she sounded as convinced as she felt. “There’s a piano downstairs. Let me get dressed for the wake, and we can spend some time in the sitting room before we have to go.”
Chris nodded and stood, his guitar in hand. He grabbed the case and headed towards the door. “Want me to wait downstairs?”
“I think waiting in here might lead to trouble, so yeah, wait for me downstairs.”
He saluted her before leaving her to quickly wash and dress. She pulled out one of Mrs. Danvers’ maternity dresses, since her own wardrobe no longer fit her. It was frightening and frustrating. While Caleb’s mother was a good five inches taller than Amelia herself, however, the dress seemed to be just the right length, and besides looking just a bit out of date, didn’t look terrible on her. She was grateful for small favors.
After getting herself ready, she grabbed her notebook and headed downstairs, to where Chris was waiting by himself in the hallway, leaning up against one of the wooden columns. She offered him a tentative smile and walked past him towards the sitting room, to where the grand piano sat in a room just as majestic as it was.
“Holy cow,” Chris whistled lowly, “that’s a thing of beauty. Sit down and we’ll pick and plunk away.”
Amelia sat on the bench, exposing the keys of the piano by lifting up the panel that was resting across them. She flexed her fingers, her mind quickly running through what she remembered from her afternoons in the Spenser music room. She played a few notes, getting two wrong.
“I’m rusty,” she sighed, forcing herself to focus more.
“Well, Rusty, we’ll just work on it. I’ll give you the notes as I play, okay?” Chris positioned himself next to her, foot on a chair with his guitar propped up on his leg. “We’ll go slowly.”
For the next half hour they slowly played in tandem, focusing on the music instead of the words. Chris had most of it stored to memory already, and he made sure to keep Amelia’s part easy. She actually appreciated the confidence he was giving her, the unasked for- but still recognized- push to try something new.
The house that had been as silent as a tomb the last few days was once again beginning to sound lived in. Pogue stopped out in the hallway as he heard the sound of guitar and piano coming from the sitting room. He drew his brows together, confused by the notes coming from Mrs. Danvers’ prized piano.
Caleb walked past one of the entrances to the sitting room, glancing in quickly before continuing on to where Pogue stood.
“It’s a nice sound, isn’t it? I never expected to hear the sound of my mother’s piano again in this house.”
Pogue blinked, looking at his best friend. “What’s going on?” he inquired in a low voice.
“Amelia and her friend are jamming.”
“Yeah, and I’d like to know just who in the hell this friend is.”
Caleb let out a breath of air as he crossed his arms over his chest. He had dark purple circles under his eyes, as did Pogue. The two combined had barely gotten enough sleep to make up an entire night, since Reid died. And Tyler…well, they had doubted that he had done anything *but* sleep. The boy was practically comatose throughout this whole ordeal.
Tyler blamed himself for Reid’s death, and it haunted the boy every waking moment, making sleep that much more of an escape. He hardly talked to either boy or his parents and sister, the only person he tolerated being close to was Amelia. All in all, the household was *not* functioning well.
“His name is Chris Delancey. He’s a new transfer from Albany. Aaron Abbot’s cousin, I believe.”
Pogue just stared at him. “*He’s* related to Aaron? Oh, that’s it, he’s gone…”
As he started to take decisive steps towards where the teen was ‘mingling’ with his fiancée, Caleb put a hand on his chest, keeping him back.
“Calm down. He’s harmless.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Caleb just shrugged. “Tyler told me. He seems like a decent guy, he helped Amelia when Kate tripped her with her attempt to kill the babies. He was the only one that Stoughton hadn’t screwed with because he was a late transfer.”
Pogue still looked unconvinced of his intentions, poised and ready to yank Chris away from Amelia and boot him out the door. Caleb inclined his head towards the other room. “Think of it this way. He’s accomplished more in two hours than we have in two days.”
Glaring at him, Pogue flexed his hands, crackling his knuckles. “We haven’t exactly been up to par ourselves.”
“Exactly. She needed someone from the outside that isn’t grieving as much as we all are. New blood, another friendly face.”
“Great, thanks. Make me feel more inadequate than I already do.”
Caleb sighed, letting his arms fall to his sides. “Pogue…it’s not like that and you know it. Your position in Amelia’s life is very clear. Everyone within fifty yards of you two can feel it.” He paused, his eyes darkening for a second. “Trust me.”
“Fine,” Pogue mumbled, not noticing Caleb’s momentary change in demeanor. “But we have to go in fifteen minutes, so while I stand here feeling sorry for myself, you get to go pull Tyler out of his room. I coerced him to mobility last time for your mom’s funeral…it’s your turn.”
Caleb nodded in agreement. “I’ll do that. You behave.” Not waiting for a promise of adequate behavior from his friend, he silently headed upstairs to make sure the one of them that had been closest to Reid in a brotherly fashion was ready to face another harsh slap across the face, courtesy of life.
{ on to Chapter 38 } { back to Legacy main page }