Blue and Yellow

He was serious. Dead serious. But in a caring way, and I didn't know what to do in this type of situation. So I sighed and took my wrist from his light hold and started to take off my fingerless gloves and gingerly slide my hoodie off my body. I left my injured arm in the sleeve till the very end. Then I took it out and showed him my bandages and make shift cast. I cringed a little when I heard him intake sharply, knowing what must be going through his head.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you go to the hospital? How did this happen?" Bert finally asked after a second or two of uncomfortable silence.

"I'm pretty sure I either broke it or fractured it pretty bad. I didn't go to the hospital because one, I couldn't afford it. You know where I'm living, I couldn't even afford a new notebook let alone a trip to the emergency room. And also because I've spent the past almost two months avoiding questions like the last one you just asked, and I knew I'd have to answer it at the hospital," I said, hoping he would take that as enough of an answer.

"And," he said looking me in the eyes.

He wasn't going to take my answer as the total answer. Time for me to lie again.

"I got into a fight with someone," I said simply, not elaborating.

And I didn't feel so awful, as it wasn't a total lie. I just didn't tell him everything except for the bare details. And why would I have to tell him it all any ways. Who was he to me that I would tell him, open up and explain everything?

"I'm sorry," I heard Bert say as I was pondering my thoughts.

I was startled when he leaned in and wrapped his arms around me. He was trying to give me a hug. And I liked it. I liked being hugged just for the sake of being hugged, just because someone thought I might need it and not because they were trying to cover up a fight or a bruise. I liked it that is until he let himself squeeze me.

"Ahhhh," I gasped in pain once again, but this time not because of my wrist since he had taken the care to avoid touching it.

It was my side.

Bert let me go as quick as lightning and I automatically wished I had better control over myself sometimes. Because he had a look on his face that I couldn't decipher.

"Lift your shirt," I heard him say as I was studying his face.

"What? No, I'm not," I started but was interrupted.

"If you don't do it I'll do it myself," he said, and I cringed at the statement, it struck too close to home.

But I agreed. Slowly I lifted my shirt on the side where my minor injury was, figuring it best not to fuck around with him and lift the other side. I heard him intake sharply again as he looked at it. The bruising was still fairly colorful, and the skin was still torn in patches from the rug burn mixed with where Devin had torn my flesh.

"Oh my," I heard bert whisper as he lifted a piece of my shirt a little.

And then I knew he had caught sight of the remnants of the older bruises. The ones from past fights, past disagreements. I felt like I wanted to cry. I didn't want anyone but me to have to see these, to have to know they were there. And I knew, I just knew he probably figured there were more all over the rest of my body. And he would be right. Then softly I felt his hands take my shirt from my hand and let it down, covering me back up. I felt weak, not because he saw but because he saw that I had let it happen. I looked up quickly from admiring the floor when I felt his thumb lightly brush across the newer scar on my forehead. He was staring at it deeply before he looked me in the eyes again.

"What did you do to deserve this?" he asked softly.

"I let it happen," I said simply, not feeling like I wanted to explain any more.

We were silent for a minute or so, and I began to think that maybe he would drop the subject. But I was wrong.

"I think that you need to let me take you to the hospital to get your wrist looked at and fixed properly. And I won't take no for answer," he said.

I felt my eyes go wide in terror. I felt the color drain from my face and my body start to shake slightly.

"No, no, no, NO. I can't, they'll ask questions. And pry, and," I started to ramble.

"Shhh, don't worry. We'll make up some story or other about it. But it needs to be looked at pronto," Bert said softly as he ran his thumb over my newest scar again.

"Fine, I'll go," I agreed, realizing that there was no fighting him on this.

Why did he care so much? Why was he doing this? He didn't even really know me. At all.

"How bout this. I'll take you back to my place, I'll make you some tea, you can watch some t.v. and then crash. And then tomorrow we'll both go to the hospital together. Hell I bet we could even bring the guys if you wanted a whole entourage," he said as I straightened up a bit and looked him dead in the eyes.

"That sounds like as good a plan as anything. I'm tired after everything," I said, and then yawned.

And I was tired from it all. The concert, being found out, and having to tell him some of what was going, or had gone, on. It was very tiring all in all.

"Then lets head," Bert said as he put an arm around my shoulders gingerly and walked be back towards the green room faux dressing room to tell the guys the change in plans.

-xXx-

Eventually we got to Bert's apartment after a few minute drive through Orem. The guys had understood completely and had decided to tag along tomorrow to the hospital and promised not to be hung over from the remainder of the nights activities. I smiled at their childish grins at the hint, the promise, of a hang over from wild partying that night. Normally, back when I use to be me and not this still broken shell of a ghost of me, I use to be a partier. And I figured I might even still be one. But I was in pain. I was tired and I was worn out. All I wanted was tea and probably about only an hours worth of television before passing out.

Up in Bert's apartment he ushered me in and directed me to the kitchen and motioned for me to grab a seat at his little dining island. I sat down and watched him bustle about his kitchen, getting a tea pot and pulling out about a million kinds of teas and arranging them on the counter before going for two mugs. He filled the teakettle and stuck it on the stove and then turned to face me.

"Your tea selection madam," he said in a fake English accent as he stepped from in front of the giant tea selection.

"Hmm, I'd like the mandarin orange and mint one please," I said after I scanned his collection.

"Mandarin orange and mint it is," he said taking out two bags and placing them in the mugs.

Soon the teakettle was whistling on the stove and Bert took it off, pouring the steaming liquid into out miss matched mugs and then placing it back on a cool burner. Sticking a spoon in each he brought the mugs over to the island and set the neon pink mug in front of me and the one with zebras on it in front of him. I simply raised an eyebrow at the color of my mug and looked at him.

"Don't ask. Need sugar, or honey, or lemon or anything for it?" he asked as he blew across the top of his steaming mug.

"No," I said sort of sleepily.

"Good then we shall retire to the living room couch for some brain rotting goodness," Bert said as he stood up and waited for me to follow.

I stood and took a sip of my tea before following him. It was delicious. Probably just about the best tea I've ever tasted. It made me want to smile, and possibly to laugh. Yet it also relaxed me completely. It was a good tea to say the least.

I sat down on his couch as he searched for his remote, his apartment wasn't the cleanest I'd ever seen but I didn't really care. It looked like someone lived there when they could. And it didn't smell bad so I wasn't going to open my mouth about it. Besides it wasn't my place to. Finally he found it and sat down next to me and turned the t.v. on and flipped through the channels till he found a movie and looked over to see my reaction to his choice.

"I like Clerks," I said to his silent question.

He turned back to the television and got comfortable. I followed suit and sipped on my tea as I watched. I rested my cup on my chest as I shifted down into the couch, taking periodical sips from it, enjoying the heat of it as it went down my throat.

I sat there, sipping my hot tea slowly as I watched Clerks with Bert, and I slowly felt my eyes begin to close. I kept fighting the heavy feeling increasing in my eyes and every time they closed I forced them open with a pop. Eventually I didn't remember fighting against them.