You Put the Spike in My Heart

Bailey sat slouched in her car. Her feet were up on the dashboard in a most unladylike fashion, not that you would have been able to tell it was her. She had an over-sized black hoodie on over baggy jeans, all of her hair tucked into a cabby hat and a pair of aviators sliding down her nose. She was parked across the street from the cemetery, this being her second trip there that morning. She was waiting for the small crowd at her mother's grave to leave, fearing the thought of being smothered with one of her relatives grief.

She pulled her hood farther over her head every time someone happened to stride by her car, feeling ridiculous but not wanting to take any chances. She started to mumble a prayer of thanks under her breath when there was a tap on her passenger side window. She tried to pretend not to hear it but when the person persistently knocked, she turned to see Bert peering in at her. She pressed the button for the automatic locks and Bert entered, getting his own hood pulled over his head before he had the chance to settle. He had a mixed bouquet in his hand and it clashed strongly with the scent of her own star-gazer lilies in the back seat.

"What's with the get-up?"

"If I have to hear 'I'm sorry for your loss' one more time, I'm going to lose it."

A few silent minutes passed where Bailey stared across the street, foot tapping impatiently on the console. When she turned back to Bert, there was an unimpeded smirk threatening to burst into a full-blown grin.

"So how long did it take everyone to notice I was missing this morning?"

He couldn't help but smile himself at the memory.

"Frank woke up to your car leaving."

She couldn't help but let out a long stream of laughter.

"Did he run around like a chicken with his head cut off?"

"He thought you had hot-wired your own car!"

This sent her into another laughing fit until she started to clutch her stomach as she pictured it in her head.

"I would never do that to my own car! He's so dramatic. What did Bam do?"

"Sat back and watched Frank freak out. He said he was too impressed to be mad."

"Well that's no fun." But she still smiled broadly as she said it.

"It wouldn't have killed you to answer your phone."

"It's been off for days."

"Like you would have answered it."

"Shut it."

She punched him in the arm before growing quiet again, but then sat a little straighter in her seat.

"Franky isn't stupid, he knew where I went. Why isn't he here reprimanding me?"

"Oh, he tried. I told him to leave you alone though."

Bailey looked at him strangely, knowing he couldn't see her eyes through her sunglasses anyway. Why had he done that after what she had said to him not even half a day ago? She opened her mouth to thank him, but instead came "You have got to be shitting me."

Bert turned to her, alarmed until he followed her line of sight. A cop car had pulled in a couple of spaces in front of them and now being pulled towards the cemetery was none other than her father.

"And here I thought I had seen the last of him this trip. Silly me."

Mr. Taggart kept turning around to stare at her car as the officer led him on his way.

"This should be interesting." Bert mumbled.

"One good thing about this is that the rest of the family is sure to take off if he's here."

Bert leaned toward her, squinting his eyes out the window. Bailey was right. The group of people around their mother's grave had caught sight of Mr. Taggart and were now taking the long way back to their vehicles.

"Might as well go and say hello."

Bert grabbed her arm before she could move more than a few inches.

"Are you crazy? You don't need to talk to him."

She shook him off roughly before snatching her lilies out of the back seat.

"What I don't need is him calling me tomorrow to scream in my ear. He already knows I'm here, if I don't see him I'll never hear the end of it."

She stepped out of the car and Bert followed. She almost immediately regretted it as a shrill voice picked up from somewhere behind her.

"Bailey dear, is that you?!"

It sounded like one of her aunts but she couldn't be sure.

"Lo siento, no hablo ingles!"

She elbowed her brother in the stomach to make him stop laughing.

"It's not funny. If they follow me, I'll make introductions and then leave you at their mercy." She hissed as low and threatening as she could. For a few awkward moments the only noises were their heavy trudging and the slamming of car doors.

"You would really rather see him again than get a nasty phone call?"

She shook her head in exasperation. There was no way to explain to him why she had to do this...she was almost a little unsure herself.

"You wouldn't understand."

As they reached their destination, the officer pulled back Mr. Taggart to allow Bailey and Bert to lay down their flowers. His eyes were fixed on Bert, a fiery hatred the only emotion detectable on his face.

"Don't start." Bailey warned, directing his attention to her. He sneered at her appearance, making her oddly happy. It was like she was making up for the failure to protect her mother by taking the heat from her brother.

"I won't say anything about him being here, but if his father so much as -"

"What's wrong with my father?"

It was odd to see Bert stand up to him, he had never done so before. It wasn't like they had much opportunity but she had always been under the impression that he was afraid of him.

"He's not to set foot in this graveyard."

"You don't own this place!" They started back and forth. Bailey took off her sunglasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. This was not how she saw the day going. She tried to drown them out as they exchanged insults, the officer watching in slight amusement. As long as they didn't start a yelling match or attack each other, there was no need to intervene.

"She was my wife! I was there through sickness and in health -"

"More like in joy and sorrow."

"Excuse me, young lady?"

It had been said louder than originally intended and she contemplated duct-taping her mouth for the rest of her life. Despite the initial regret, she had had enough of their bickering and something about what he said made her unable to stop herself.

"It's a story mum read me once, from the Grimm fairy tales. The husband says 'I have shared joy and sorrow with her also, for whenever I hit her I was full of joy, and she of sorrow; and if I missed her, then she was joyful, and I sorry.'"

Bailey could tell her father was about to blow, but as usual her mouth refused to be kept shut.

"I'll never forget it because she had burst into tears and was inconsolable. She couldn't even finish the story. What do you think happened to the dutiful husband, daddy? Do you think he got the reward he deserved?"

She was lucky the officer already had a hold on her father. He had lunged at her, Bert stepping in front of her needlessly. The officer didn't hesitate to start dragging him away. Bailey turned to her brother with an innocent look as he eyed her curiously.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"You're pure evil sometimes, you know that?"

"You're just jealous."

He rolled his eyes and shoved her playfully.

"I have to go now, concert tonight."

"Ouch."

"Tell me about it. I'll make sure the guys leave you alone until you decide to come back. Just make sure you're packed and ready to go by five in the morning."

Her head snapped in his direction. Why had he decided to let her keep touring with them? She had been sure she would have to pick her belongings out of the dirt come morning. She mused over the thought of continuing for a minute and he waited patiently for her response.

"Do you think we could hitch my car? I'm unsure if I'll be able to handle this."

"No problem."

"Thank you...for trusting me. I'm not going to gain Franky's trust for a long time after the stunts I've pulled. It's nice to know -"

"I don't trust you, Bailey."

She felt her cheeks grow hot and she stared at him, confused.

"It's not up to Frank and Bam to fix you. You have to do that all on your own. But how can you even begin to try if you're being watched all the time? I'm not saying they can't help..."

He stopped as a thought hit him.

"You know who you should talk to? Gerard."

Her face grew hot again. Why did everyone keep telling her that? She couldn't see herself doing it, she was too ashamed to approach him as it was.

"I'll keep it in mind."

He nodded before going on his way. She watched him until he was out of sight and then turned to the grave behind her with an empty smile at the large pile of flowers.

"Aren't we the popular one?"

She started to spread them out in an obsessive compulsive fashion instead of leaving them in a mindless, grotesque heap. When she was satisfied, she sat cross-legged in front of the stone and started to trace the etching that read simply 'Samantha Taggart'. No date of birth or death, no message, no picture. Bailey herself had made all of the arrangements for every aspect of the funeral. She felt she knew best what her mother would have wanted.

"I miss you."

She grew quiet but the only response was the light wind blowing through the tress.

"I'm going away with Bert again. He kept his promise to you, to try and look after me. I on the other hand..."

She took a deep breath, trying not to get choked up.

"I've been nothing but disappointments and broken promises. How did I let it get this far? How did I sink so low?"

She ran an incredibly shaky hand through her hair and then held it out in front of her. The tremors were constant and reached all the way up her arm.

"I stopped the drugs, cold turkey. It's not so bad when I have something to drink but the thing is...because it's your day, I won't be drinking at all. This is all for you."

Even her voice had started up pick up a slight quiver.

"I hope you appreciate it because it's definitely no picnic."

She pulled her knees to her chest, her legs were starting to get restless and she needed something to hold on to. She hid her face behind them, the bright sun starting to sting her eyes. When her voice came again it was muffled by her jeans.

"I just hope that you above anyone else can forgive me for the way I've acted lately."