Babette's Story

He heard me. Richie had heard my plea for him to fight. The squeeze of my hand was his way of assuring me he was gonna do just that.

"You should go see your aunt Gilli." My pops rough voice said from the door. I turned to look at him and take in his older appearance. He looked tired, more gray hair making their debut atop his head. He looked completely worn out, but he didn't and would never complain about it. That was just him. "She's in and out of conscienceness." He motioned with his head out the room.

I rose slowly from my seat kissing Richie's forehead before stepping away from him. Stopping in front of my pop to squeeze his arm. My pop was always the silent type, as am I in many ways. I guess I inherited that trait from him. I pulled him into a tight hug which he returned.

"I love ya pop." I sighed.

"I love you too, hunny." His voice deep and raspy. I stepped out into the hallway and headed towards aunt Gillian's room.

Angie was seated beside her bed. Her face etched with stress and worry of her mother. Aunt Gillian's face was unrecognizable. I had to turn away. I couldn't bare the sight. Too many bad memories of when it was me. I said a silent prayer for her fast recovery.

"What, um, what did they doctor say?" I asked lowly. Angie's eyes never leaving her mother's face.

"That the ah, swelling is the worst." She sniffled. "There'll be a lotta bruisin', but its not as bad as they thought it was." I just nodded unsure of what to say. "How's Richie doin'?"

"Still unconscious.... But he's alive." I nodded my head again, more as a reassurance to myself that my brother is still here.

Loud thunderous footsteps startled us. Angie was up and out of her seat as if she knew who those footsteps belonged to. If he was back, then it meant that we were rid of the devil. Angie ran out into the hallway and into the arms of the eldest Bondurant. Stepping back into the hallway I could see the rest of the men that went out with them filing back in to the small waiting room. All, except Forrest. My eyes searched for him. I then look to Howard for answers. I could feel myself ready to panic due to Forrest' lack of appearance.

"Forrest?" I whispered. Howard nodded towards the exit doors. I passed everyone on my way out.

Forrest was leaned against his truck a cigar in hand, and smoke billowing out all around him. As he brought his hand to his mouth I took notice of his stained hands. Going unnoticed I just took in the sight of him. To witness and know what has happened to the man I love in his life- it baffles me, truly. So many unfortunate events plagued his life, but he managed to somehow still be here.

As if he felt my presence, his stormy eyes immediately locked on mine. His intense gaze making me forget how to breathe for a few seconds. Involuntarily taking slow steps towards him. His eyes never left mine, nor did he make any attempt to move from his position. My hands rose as soon as I was close enough to touch him. Trailing upward starting from his waist, up to his chest, shoulders, neck and finally his face. I searched his eyes for an answer that I already knew. A swift and almost unnoticeable nod was all I was granted and all that I needed from Forrest, to feel a tremendous weight being lifted. Wrapping my arms around Forrest' neck tightly only for him to groan from the pain in his shoulder- which I had almost forgotten about. I pulled away, tears welling up in my eyes. Forrest' intense gaze piercing straight into my soul.

With a hand on the back of my neck he pulled me back into his good side. Holding me there and burying his face into my hair. "He ain't gon' hurt you or our family anymore." His deep southern raspy drawl whispered into my ear. Trailing kisses from my ear to my forehead, down to the tip of my nose. He stopped. Pressing his forehead against mine.

"He's really gone." I whispered. My lips brushing his as I spoke. Realizing how close we were I seized the moment to feel his lips on mine. This kiss, reminiscent of our first back at the station. It grew passionate and deep. My mind, body, and soul felt lighter. I pulled away to catch my breath, my chest heaving. Forrest' hand gently cupped my cheek. His thumb wiping under my eye was when I noticed I was crying. I choked out a breathy laugh as I looked up into his eyes.

"Arrilyn with your pop?" Forrest asked. I nodded. "We should head home. We all had a long enough day."

"I-I don't wanna leave. Aunt Gilli is on the mend, but Richie still hasn't woken up yet. I can't just leave when his life is hanging by a thread- I won't be able to sleep." I rambled on.

"Tell you what?" I looked up at him waiting for him to continue. "You stay with your family. I'll just head on home with our lil girl." He suggested. He didn't wait for any kind of response from me when he started leading me back to the hospital.

"You sure you can handle her alone with your arm like that?" I asked with genuine concern.

"I'll be alright. Just want her to sleep at home in her own bed. Give her a break from today's events." Forrest replied.

"Hey?" I stopped him just before we reached the door. "Are you okay? I mean, everything that happened a-a-and you were shot, Forrest." I pointed to his shoulder. Physically he didn't look bothered by anything, but his eyes held some sort of distress.

"You don't need to worry 'bout me. You got enough to worry 'bout with your brother and aunt." He dismissed my concern.

"Doesn't mean I can't be concerned about you. I know you had to do things and-"

"What may have happened a few hours ago, is in the past. No longer an issue to our family, okay?" Forrest said authoritatively. I give him a weak nod. Falling behind a few steps as he continues on inside.

As I walk inside I am greeted by somewhat relieved faces. "What's goin' on?" I ask, uncertainty spilling from my voice.

Pop offers a tightlipped smile before answering. "He's up." Is all my pop says for me to feel like I can breathe easier than I did in a very long time. "He's asking for ya." Pop nods towards Richie's room. I smile and rush past everyone straight into his room. I stand a few steps away from his bedside waiting for him to open his eyes. They open a tiny bit and his head slowly turns in my direction.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes." His welcomes me with a low rasp in his voice.