Distance

I regained conciousness slowly, like a deep sea diver resurfacing from the ocean floor. I could feel a million bruises pulsing, a thousand cuts burning dully against the cool hospital sheets. My muscles ached; I felt lethargic and weak.

I flicked my eyes open a slit, taking in my surroundings. The small room was crowded with chairs that barely fit. The television cast a dim glow over my dark room, making the people that sat around my bed look almost ghost-like, their eyes wide in the dark.

They were watching Seinfeld, which was Mike's favorite show. I smirked, noticing the clicker held tightly in his right hand. Always the control freak, my Mike.

His left arm was draped around Chrissy's shoulders. Chrissy was snuggled up against him, her right hand clasped around Mike's, her thumb drawing lazy circles against his skin. From time to time, I knew Mike would lean down and place a soft kiss on the top of her head, and I knew a small content smile would slip across Chrissy's face.

Their very presence by my bedside comforted me a little bit, as if things weren't half as bad as they seemed.

But the couple that sat on my other side weren't nearly as soothing.

Danica was curled on Tre's lap, her head on his shoulder. I could see an ugly hicky on her neck. I wondered if it was from me. Tre's arms were around her, his fingers on the bare skin of her hip where her t-shirt had ridden up. A small smile played about her lips. And then, while I watched helplessly, Tre reached up with his lips and kissed her.

She fucking kissed him. She kissed him while I'm lying in a hospital bed less then an inch away.

It was like being stabbed. I heard the heart monitor next to me spike, the beep shattering the silence. Everyone jumped. I snapped my eyes closed.

"Is...is that bad?" Chrissy asked, looking to Mike for reassurance.
"Nah. Just routine, I suppose."

Danica snorted.

"If it was anything to be worried about, that stupid nurse would come galloping in and accuse us of poisoning him."

I chuckled very quietly to myself.

"Speaking of poison," Tre said. "Was he on anything?"
"Nah. Clean." Mike said shortly.
"Then...how?" Chrissy asked.

Danica was silent, as I knew she would be. Mike sighed.

"I don't know. The cops don't know. The doctors don't know. But if he hadn't been wearing his seatbelt, he wouldn't have walked away from this."

There was a sort of depressed silence, then Tre cleared his throat a little.

"Where was he coming from?"

I knew Mike was shrugging.

"No idea. He wasn't concious until a few moments before the doctors went to work on him, and then they had to put him under again. And he hasn't woken up yet."
"Is that bad?" Chrissy asked nervously.
"Nah." Tre said quickly. "He's fine. Just tired, that's all."

The silence crept back over them. I let myself stir slightly. The movement pulled the sheets down, which I regretted almost instantly. The hospital was damn cold.

"Look, someone's gotta go tell Ollie about what's happened. And you gotta get home, Chrissy."

"I know." Chrissy yawned. "Are you gonna stay over tonight?"
"If you want me to, babe." Mike replied.
"I don't want you driving anymore than you have to." She told him, and I heard a shudder in her voice.
"Kay, baby." Mike whispered, and I didn't even have to sneak a peek from under my lashes to know that he'd planted a soft kiss on her lips while wrapping her in his hoodie.

"You coming with me, Danica?" Tre asked. I heard his keys jangle.
"Nah. I wanna catch the bus. It gives me some time to think."
"Alright. Call me when you get home?"

He worried about her. He wasn't going to sleep until she called him, whether that was an hour from now, or an hour from dawn. She knew this, and somehow, in her mind, it made him a good boyfriend.

"I will, sunshine." Danica replied. I could hear the smile in her voice, hear the way her lips brushed his.
"Take this."
"But Tre, you won't have anything to wear and it's freezing-"
"You need a better coat than that damn hoodie you're wearing. Jesus, the thing's fucking tiny."

There was a sort of rough tenderness in Tre's voice, and I heard the rustle of fabric as he wrapped it around her.

"I'll talk to you later, love." He said.

I heard the door bang a couple times, and figured it was safe to open my eyes. I stretched and yawned, ignoring the screams of protest from my muscles.

"You suck at driving."

I almost shit myself, honest to fucking god.

"Jesus Christ, Danica! Give a man some warning before you start bitching him out about his driving!"

She just gawked at me, eyes glistening with the beginnings of tears.

"You almost died."
"Well, I didn't. So let's not waste time on that."
"It would have been my fault."
"Damn right it would have been. But nothing happened, Danie. I'll be out of here in a few days."

Her lip was trembling.

"Oh, what's all the fuss about, love? A couple hours ago, you couldn't stand the sight of me."
"You made me angry. And I felt bad. I tried to call you, and tell you to come back. You didn't answer your phone."

I snorted.

"Danie, you're being absolutely ridiculous. I didn't pick of my phone because I was blasting the radio so loud I couldn't even hear the incoming cars."

I was pissing her off. I really was. Tears of frustration and pain streaked her cheeks, and a part of me was pleased. Part of me wanted her to feel the pain she'd put me through.

But then there was the other part of me, the part that I tended to listen to. The part that hated seeing her upset. The part that wanted to comfort her.

"Come here, babe." I said, and extended my arms.

She didn't miss a beat. She scrambled over onto the bed, trying to avoid jostling the IV and the various other tubes and thingamajigs protruding from my body. But she managed to find a way to curl herself on my chest and wrap an arm around my waist.

It struck me that this was how we'd always laid since we'd met. Before and after we'd had sex. When we'd been friends, and when we'd been lovers. It hadn't changed in the slightest.

Huh. Weird.

Danica was tracing the barely visible track marks on my tattooed arm. Her face was sad.

"Why?"

I shrugged.

"I like the way it feels."
"That's not good enough."
"I'm sorry, babe. But that's all I've got for you."

She yawned, drifting off to sleep with traces of a frown on her face. I shook her awake.

"Call Tre."
"Excuse me?!"
"Call him."
"Billie, what the fuck-"
"If you don't call him, he won't got to sleep. He'll stay up, worrying all night about you. So fucking call him, or find somewhere else to sleep."

She was shocked.

Surprisingly, she did what I asked. She called Tre, murmured sweet nothings into the phone for about three seconds, then practically hung up on him in her hurry to resume her place in the bed.

"You're a terrible girlfriend to Tre." I whispered.
"Yeah...It's really your fault, I think."
"I know it is. That's why I deserve this. It's some higher power's way of telling me I'm a rat bastard and deserve lots of pain."

Danica chuckled sadly.

"If anyone deserves pain, it's me. Because I'm a weak, ignorant little slut who can't make up her mind. And I'm going to wind up hurting both of you."

I remembered that flash of heartbreak that I'd felt when she'd kissed Tre, and knew she was right.

But I wanted her to feel better, so I kissed the top of her head gently and said, "No, love. You'll sort yourself out soon enough, realize that Tre's twice the man I am, and kick me out of your life with a flourish."

I expected her to laugh, but she just sighed.

"Somehow, I doubt that that's the way anything ever happens." She said sadly.

I wanted to argue with her, try to demonstrate the existance of happy endings. But I was dead tired, drained, and aching in a million places.

I drifted off into a deep sleep, and I did not dream.