Selfish Machines

I would never hit a girl. Especially Gemma.

In saying that, I'm not sure why I did what I did. In that moment there was so much angry coursing through my veins I think I might have thought about it for a split second. Actually hitting her, I mean. I would have never acted on it- and I didn't- but punching the bus was no better.

My hand was broken. I was in the ER. And I was alone.

Gemma hadn't come with me, only Matt had. Everyone else was too livid with me to even glance my way or feel bad for me and my mangled hand. I was pretty sure they thought I deserved it. And to be honest, I kind of did too. Regardless of what I deserved or didn't deserve, sitting in a hospital room alone was a pretty fucking terrible feeling. And not only because my hand felt like I had punched a bus or something, but because I knew Gemma was likely back at the venue inside that bus thinking about how much she hated me.

And I wondered why she didn't believe me when I told her I loved her.

"Sup mate," Matt walked into the room I was sitting in, nodding his head toward me.

I grumbled an inaudible response.

"Are ya ready ta go back? Doc said yer hand is all wrapped up and ya got some killer pain meds," he grinned.

"Do you fhink I'm an asshole?" I asked suddenly, ignoring my friend's previous words.

Without skipping a beat Matt looked at me and said, "Definitely."

I let out a deep breath, "Fuck."

"Yeah I'd say that's 'bout righ'," Matt chuckled as he watched me haul my sorry ass out of bed. "'m sure you'll catch 'ell once we're back."

I had never felt more awkward about seeing my friends as I did when I finally came back from the hospital. I could literally feel how much everyone despised me at the moment, even though most of them said nothing. I mostly just hung my head in shame and tried to avoid eye contact.

I started for Architects' bus, hoping to patch things over with Gemma. Or at least let her know how sorry I was.

"Where do ya fhink yer goin' mate?" Dan asked me. I looked up to see him standing tall in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest.

"To uh...talk to Gem," I mumbled feebly.

"Do ya really fhink that's such a good idea right now?" He looked me seriously. I glanced around. The other guys were all staring in our direction, glaring. I had never felt so hated in my entire life. Except for the time Gemma had found out I had lied in order to sleep with her the first time.

"I jus' wanna see 'er," I nearly begged. "Fuck- I'll even 'ave someone supervise us if you guys want."

Dan glanced over his shoulder as if seeking an answer from his band mates. Sam nodded shortly and Dan turned back to look at me.

"You've got five minutes," he said sternly. And though I felt like I was in middle school again asking permission from my parents to go somewhere, I nodded. It kinda pissed me off too, but I wasn't about to object. I was willing to take whatever I could get because I knew they would make my life hell if I fucked things up again. They'd probably break my other hand too.

The first thing I saw when I climbed onto the bus was my brother sitting on the couch. I raised an eyebrow at him and he just laughed.

"Didn't expect ta see me 'ere, aye?" He asked.

"Uh...not exactly," I told him.

"I'll leave you two alone then," he said, pushing himself off the couch and walking past me and out the door.

I continued to move forward, and was nearly shocked when I finally saw her.

She was packing.

"Gem?" I said softly.

She didn't jump, but instead she froze. Her back was to me as she knelt in front of her suitcase, carefully folding all of the clothes that had been sitting at the end of her bunk. I wanted to touch her, to kneel down behind her and wrap my arms around her tightly. But I knew that was off limits now.

"Say somefhin'," I urged her quietly.

"I'm leaving," she finally responded after what seemed like years.

"Why?" I asked, moving forward. I knelt down next to her. She refused to look me in the eye.

"I don't want to do this. Not here. Not now. I'm not going to ruin everyone's tour experience because we can't function as normal humans," she said. There was venom behind her words, but her tone was lifeless. Like it usually was when it came to things like this.

There were so many times when I wished she would get angry with me. I wanted her to yell and scream at me when I did something stupid. I wanted her to call he out on my bullshit. I wanted her to do anything that would show me she cared. But she never did. Her life experiences had left her void of emotions. Emotions I had so badly wanted to rise out of her. And maybe I had gone about that the wrong way. Maybe if I had shown her how much I loved her from the beginning instead of being such a complete and utter twat things would have been different now. But all I had ever wanted was for her to show me she cared, and even though I had done everything wrong, even though anyone else in their right mind would have yelled and screamed at me, when it came to her feelings, her real true feelings, she always came up short.

"Gemma- ya can't jus' run away."

"Actually, I can," she countered.

"But I don't want you to," I said softly.

Her eyes finally found mine. Those devastatingly green eyes I had fallen in love with. They were vacent. Dead. It was kind of scary, actually.

Had I made her that way?

After her grandpa died and she was left alone I know she lost a small part of her that she would probably never get back. And she had told me her story, I knew about her mess of a childhood and I knew how it all affected her. But her eyes were never this dull. Not since things started to get bad between us. And suddenly I was left feeling even more guilty that I already had.

"Tom," she whispered. Her name fell from my lips so easily. My lips twitched upward slightly almost instantly as the sound hit my ears. I lifted my good hand up and cupped her face, rubbing her cheek softly with my thumb.

"Please stay," I silently begged her. She closed her eyes then, her think eyelashes standing out against her ever pale skin.

I kissed her then, as if she needed anymore reason to believe me when I said I wanted her to stay. She didn't immediately respond but when she did, she clutched at my tee-shirt, balling it with her fists and pulling me into her. I wrapped my other arm around her waist, my cast hanging against her back. She was kissing me with such force I nearly fell backwards; I responded with just as much passion.

And just as soon as it started, the sound of someone clearing their throat sounded off above us and we both snapped our heads in the direction of the sound, only to see Dan looming above us.

"Yer five minutes is up Tommy," he told me.

"You don't have to time him, Dan," Gemma glared at the drummer.

"You shouldn't even be givin' 'im the time of day, Gemma," he glared right back.

"Oh I'm sorry, are you my fucking father?" she spat at him.

He just sighed. "Whatever. Just leave, okay Tom?" He looked at me then.

Gemma said nothing, instead she crossed her arms over her chest much like a child would. I could tell she was fuming. After Dan left she turned back to me and I was hopeful she was about to tell me she was going to stay, that we could work this out. That things would be different. That she loved me too. I smiled she opened her mouth, looking forward to the words I was sure were about to leave them.

And instead I got this:

"Can you help me carry my bag to the cab?"