Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #15 on Oct 7, 2009, 11:07am »
&these words were never true
now i find myself in question they point the finger at me again
you point the finger at me again
I WANT TO RUN AWAY
It was with careful and slow steps that she moved alongside Cole and Nate to coax the fever-ridden drooping youth across the last bit of the porch and into the house, crossing the front entrance into the kitchen before letting Cole slip from her hold and into one of the chairs at the dining table. Sliding his arm out from underneath her half crouched form, she tucked the limb back across his chest and waist, absent mindedly pulling the blanket further back around his shoulders and neck and tucking one end of it back into the hand she had just let loose. She doubted it would stay there long, and again, her fingers push back the sweat soaked strands that cling to Cole's forehead and cheeks, letting the back of her hand press briefly against his forehead, a small shake of her head given as her hands fall back to her side.
"It might be just a fever, but that doesn't mean it won't turn his brain to soup." Maia half mutters in initial reply to Nate's comment in regards to Cole's condition, a harried sigh escaping as she shrugs out of her newly purchased jacket, fingers tugging at the scarf to loosen its hold upon her throat as the warmth of the house, combined with the waves of extraneous heat escaping from Cole, filled the room and began to take the edge off of the bone aching chill that seemed omnipresent for her. "Has anything been going around, anyone else here sick?" She questions, as she drapes the jacket and scarf over one of the unoccupied chairs.
"I ought to smack Jacob for convincing you that surfing out there was a good idea, I would if I thought it'd do any good." Maia chides, in the direction of Cole, as she moves past and behind Nate around the kitchen. She stopped first, to find one of the hand towels, and then to the sink, running it under water just long enough to dampen it, before she is off to the freezer once Nate has retrieved the ice cream. She scooped up a handful or two of ice, which was promptly laid out in a neat pair of lines along the length of the hand towel, before the fabric is folded in on itself, and the ends quickly and securely fastened by a pair of rubber bands. This is repeated once more, the second wrap put back into the freezer, after which she snags the first home made ice pack and slips back towards the table.
"This might help some, but it might hurt a little at first." She explains, as she shows him the bundle before tugging the edge of the blanket away from his neck long enough to drape the handtowel across the back of his neck, and around, a rubber band that had been wrapped around her pinky now used to secure the tail ends of the wrap at the hollow of his throat. The edge of the blanket is tugged up, then, again, as she steps back out of the way for Nate to deposit the milkshake in front of Cole, a slight smile and a faint 'thanks' given to Nate as she accepts her own frothy, icy cold beverage. "And be careful with that, if you haven't had anything else to keep you hydrated, it's going to feel like it weighs a ton when it hits your stomach." She adds, nodding towards his milkshake as she takes a sip of her own before it too gets set down on the table and she moves back towards the working part of the kitchen, pulling open the fridge to stare at the contents inside as she tries to find something that he might be able to hold down. "Water, with a splash of lemon juice or orange juice might help the feeling that your tongue's made out of cotton, too." She adds, after a moment's contemplation.
In truth, she wasn't seeing much of anything that was actually in the fridge, more along the lines of it was a good place to stare while she pulled her thoughts inwards, back into a box, clean and crisp, rather than flung every which way but in that they had been in these last few minutes, since she had seen Cole draped, flopped across the chair on the porch. Something was nagging at her, tugging at that little curl of instinctive reactions in the pit of her stomach that she couldn't shake, and she was torn between trying to listen to that little voice that jumped up and down in the back of her mind shouting 'pick me! pick me!', and shoving it away and reverting to a stony silence for what few minutes she would have to spend in the room with Nate, and Cole, and then cutting away from her room and closing them, and all the little tugs and pokes and prods that came with them, out.
never say goodbye i wanna know the truth instead of wondering why i wanna know the answers
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #16 on Oct 7, 2009, 8:52pm »
Nate was watching with a mixture of amusement and concern as Maia fussed over Cole like a mother hen. He realized that she must have spent a lot of time taking care of someone else that was sick often in order to pick up all of these instant reactions and tricks. He shook his head as she fussed at the boy for going out in the cold water and letting Jacob expose him to whatever it was that got him sick. This was not something that the kid had picked up by being out surfing. Cole was used to much more water exposure than that and there was no way that this was just from it being colder than he was used to.
He watched as the boy kept his eyes on Maia, barely even glancing at the cold milkshake Nate put in front of him. Maia didn’t seem to be quite able to spare eyes for Nate either, her attention being mostly used up by everything she could think of that might make the boy better. It was like she was searching the house for just the right thing that would make him instantly cured. Chuckling slightly he put down his own milkshake and dried off his hands with the only towel that Maia hadn’t made off with. The chuckle stopped dead when he looked back up though and caught a good sight of Maia. Her eye was turning darker rapidly but that wasn’t what concerned him so much. Around her throat were a perfect set of hand prints that were creeping towards turning black. She was now obviously much more hurt than they had been able to tell outside. He scanned her carefully as she moved around the kitchen to make sure that she didn’t seem to be suffering from any serious injuries. Then he looked over at Cole and caught the look in his eyes. It was obvious that the kid had noticed the marks too. He wondered who the boy would think it was and what he intended on doing about it.
When she asked if anything was going around he didn’t have to think about his answer for long. He nodded slightly, ‘Yup,’ he said, ‘Sam, Paul, Jacob, Quill, Embry…’,most of the boys that Jacob hung around with had gone through it at some point in the last year or two. It didn’t seem to last long though so Nate wasn’t overly worried, it obviously hadn’t damaged Jake’s growth ability he thought with a grin. The slight groan that escaped from Cole when Maia mentioned orange juice and the wary look that the kid shot the milkshake brought his attention back to them. Maia was standing at the fridge staring inside it as if it was about to spit out the answer to all her problems any second now with her brow furrowed in concentration. Something was bothering her and he could tell that he wasn’t the only person who didn’t know what. What he could see though, was the extra effort that she was putting into keeping Cole from seeing it. He eyed the boy cautiously trying to judge what the kid’s reaction was going to be when Maia actually erupted into the blow up that he could sense was coming.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #17 on Oct 7, 2009, 10:58pm »
“Brain soup...yummy,” Cole murmured, unsure if he could be heard as Maia scooted him into the house. It sounded like something out of a zombie movie, but Cole realized that she was right. Burning too hot for too long could cause him to cook his brain. And let's face it, Cole thought with a chuckle, he couldn't afford to lose too many more brain cells. Nevertheless, until he was sure Maia would be alright, he wasn't going anywhere, coma be damned. Under Maia's careful guidance, Cole navigated to the kitchen table, where he was tucked into Nate's old quilt, which smelled comfortingly of cedar and aged fabric. He wondered for a moment about the strange things that his fever-soaked brain was noticing, how everything smelled so distinct, so unique. He'd never noticed before the particular nuances, for instance, of how Maia's perfume became so much more noticeable when she removed her jacket and hung it on a kitchen chair. It was, by far, the most prevalent scent in the kitchen, and the most distractingly alluring. He was overcome briefly by the startling urge to bury his nose in her hair and just bask in it. Fortunately, he was far too weak at the moment to manage such an embarrassing outburst.
The moment the ice pack was laid across Cole's neck, waves of relief washed down his back, easing the ache in his muscles. He felt a little strength return to him, felt his mind sharpen. It reminded him of one of the times he'd had an amazingly bad sunburn, and how the pain had disappeared almost instantly at the touch of cool aloe. Maia was being so sweet now, doting over him, trying so hard to ease his suffering. He looked up to pay her some minor compliment when he saw the marks on her throat. A subtle sound, like a growl, roiled in his throat, then the next thing he knew his entire body clenched in spasms of pain. It felt as if he was trying to turn himself inside out. He gritted his teeth until the spasms subsided, then returned his watchful gaze to Maia. The dark finger-shaped marks on her throat were unmistakable, but too small for most guy's hands. Maybe her story about pissing off one of the local girls had been true after all. Still, most girls weren't strong enough to leave marks like that on someone, especially if the other girl were putting up a fight. Something didn't add up. He noticed Maia begin to turn towards him, and darted his eyes away guiltily. He fumbled for something to say, deciding to address the surfing issue. “Nah, the surfing was my idea. If that's what got me sick, it's completely on my head.”, which, as it turned out, was beginning to throb once again now that the pain of a few moments ago had passed. Maia was suggesting orange juice. Horrible flashbacks of mistake number one raced through his mind, and he barely suppressed a heave. “No, no orange juice,” he said hoarsely, “Orange juice bad. Orange juice evil.”
As Maia returned to her icebox vigil, Cole took a tentative sip of his milkshake. It was like the ice pack, only on the inside, and the heavy feeling of the rich, cold ice cream was actually comforting. Cole watched Maia, aware by now that Nate was watching him watch her. He didn't care by now; if the old man objected, he'd have made it apparent by now. Nate's unspoken approval of Cole's concern bolstered his confidence a bit. He stole another glance in Maia's direction and saw a look in her eyes he didn't like. Apparently it was going to be the night for those. She appeared totally absorbed in her thoughts, and there was a silent war going on beneath her eyes. She seemed sad, as if aware that no matter how her inner struggle played out, she was going to lose; and Cole's heart went out to her.
“Maia” he said at last, “I'll be fine. It's just something going around. C'mon, sit down. You've had a shitty night, too; and you're about to drop as it is. Really, 's okay.”
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #18 on Oct 12, 2009, 9:24am »
&these words were never true
now i find myself in question they point the finger at me again
you point the finger at me again
I WANT TO RUN AWAY
Fortunately, though whether for herself, or some currently nameless and faceless assailant, the full effect of her injuries, her scrapes and bruises and aches, had not yet begun to ping insistently for her attention as she moved around the kitchen. Her attention was focused inwards, on the trails of thoughts that slithered back and forth, towards the sliver of icy discontent that wrapped its way firmly around the knot in the pit of her stomach and worked its way up slowly towards her throat as Nate spoke.
Sam, Jacob, Quill, Embry... the same names that in the late hours of the night before had rolled off of her tongue and lips as casually as they did now, from Nate's, but with no less effect or importance than her own roll call. Each of them that had suffered this sickness, this fever that seemed intent on burning them up from the inside out, consuming them. Like the phoenix, from the ashes reborn. She could feel the tightness in her jaw and cheeks, as her teeth clenched and ground against each other, renewing the throb of pain along her jaw, and that crept along the side of her face towards her eye socket at the motion, but that didn't stop her. If anything, she welcomed it. The pain and heat that radiated from her bruises was something tangible, something she could hold to, as surely as she had so long clung to her anger, and in the same manner that her fingers tightened, knuckles white, against the handle of the fridge.
There was so little they knew, what caused this, how it was spread... they had seemed secure in the fact that it was not spread by any form of contact, or by a bite or scratch as modern film had portrayed. But they couldn't be sure, could they, not yet, not til she had accomplished what she was here for, until she had gained the trust of those within the tightly knit bunch of the pack. She didn't know, couldn't find a way to stop it, the freight train that came crashing through the walls of the house that seemed stifling, suffocating.
Somewhere in the back of her thoughts that she fought still to wrangle, to fold into something resembling order, she registered the low sound, the faint rumble of a growl, that emanated from the lean and sweat-dampened form of Cole. While he himself seemed torn between turning himself inside out or slinking and slipping into a pool at the feet of the chair, there was a lucid spark in his gaze as she glanced back towards him that confirmed that there was still some part of him that could grasp the situation at hand, and there was an absentminded thought, for a moment, as to what would have caused the stifled outburst, before it was dismissed as a sound of misery, or pain, most likely.
One of her brow arches upwards, slightly, at the distinct expression of 'hurk' crosses over his features at the mention of orange juice, before she just shakes her head slightly as she turns her attention and focus back to the contents of the fridge, letting him test the theory of whether he could hold the milkshake down all on his own. One would think that having dealt with baby spit up and the diapers of unknown origin throughout her younger years would have built a greater tolerance to the sympathetic yacking syndrome she had been born with but... it really hadn't...
She knew it wasn't logical, the nagging feeling of some impending disaster that seemed as if it would fall from the sky at any moment. She was here to do her job, and when it was done, she would leave, and all of the reservation and everything on it would be behind her. It might not be a pleasant process, these next weeks, months perhaps if it was so deemed, but she had accepted the risks and hazards to her personal health and safety long before she had stepped onto American soil once again. Nothing had changed, in the span of a week nor in the last hours that could have shifted the outcome so greatly, but she couldn't shake it.
She could feel her nerves, scraped and wounded, almost a physical pain as Cole speaks again, his voice that jarred her from the safety of her own thoughts and into the glaring and over bright reality, her body frozen between the heat that wafted over the room itself, and Cole, and the icy wisps of air that coil around her, familiar in their own right, from the fridge as she jerks her head back up to snap towards him as his words tease against her thoughts. A flare of anger, unreasonable and fresh, lances across her expression as she stares at him, as he makes some attempt at comfort or consolation.
Who was he, to try and take care of her, what right did he think he have to tell her what to do, or to know what was best for her, as if he knew her, as if he had any inkling of what she was, or what she was capable of? She could feel the edge of her lip as it curled, drawing back from her perfect ivory canines of their own accord, a snarl forming for an instant before she forced it away, and forced air to her lungs in the same moment. "Don't." She snapped, seethed, almost hissed, her words accompanied with a sharp clank of glass against metal as she drops the pitcher of lemonade back into the side door of the fridge.
"Don't tell me what to do, don't act like you have that right, you don't." She could feel the pressure rising, the weight at the base of her throat, at the nape of her neck, the slightest tingling that rose at the tips of her fingers and the bottom of her heels as the inner power within her sparked, fighting for dominance in her words, forcing her to clamp her lips shut in a thin, pinched expression as she struggled to control it, to dampen it. She could feel the world spin, for a moment, as she reigns herself in, another clank of sound and motion as she slams the door of the fridge closed, barely whirling out of the way in time.
Two steps, three, as her hands scramble for the corner of the chair that her bag, and her jacket and scarf hang from, fighting with them for those few seconds as they tangle in on themselves and fight to cling to the chair as if for their lives, as her head throbs, aching from the building pressure within her. "You never should have come here!" She seethes, the words something between a shriek and a shout and a declaration of truth, as she gives up the attempt on the jacket, the sleeves somehow wrapped in on themselves in a knot, or so it seemed to her, and settling for throwing the scarf back around her neck and fighting with the bag to get it settled across her chest.
never say goodbye i wanna know the truth instead of wondering why i wanna know the answers
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #19 on Oct 12, 2009, 10:33pm »
Nate listened to more than just the words that Cole was saying when he talked to Maia. There was something in the tone of his voice, something that seemed oddly familiar to him, but he just couldn’t place what it was. He did note, with some interest, that Cole seemed to feel instantly better when he was busy worrying about Maia. He wasn’t shaking and shuddering at the moment and the flush had gone out of his face so that it was nearly human colored again. He wondered briefly if Maia had noticed that effect too and if she was playing on it.
Nate figured he was probably the first to notice her knuckles begin to turn white with the grip that she had on the fridge door. She paled ever so slightly and a thick knot of tension that he could actually see wound its way from somewhere near her abdomen up to her eyes and pinched them shut in silent fury and despair. He had rarely ever seen such a perfect portrait of that emotion than he saw now on his nieces young face. It broke his heart to look at her and he glanced to Cole to see if the kid had noticed anything unusual yet before turning his attention fully to her. There was no way to be certain exactly what outburst these new raw emotions were likely to bring, but he’d been around enough teenage girls to recognize one when it was coming. Except that he had never seen anything with the depth of emotion in it that this one had. It could only be described as complete and utter despair that this moment was the end of everything. The intensity of the emotion was sapping her of her strength and he knew that if she loosened her grip on the door handle then she would probably collapse. Nate glanced back at Cole as a slow rumble came from the boy unexpected wondering if he’d noticed Maia’s state yet.
Nate set his own glass down on the counter near the sink with a slow and steady movement as he watched the shift in Maia’s body posture. Rage was beginning to show itself now, he recognized, pure unbridled rage. Her eyes narrowed and her teeth curled back into the familiar stance that precluded a scathing insult and she whirled around to face the boy. She snapped at him and then, Nate noticed, abruptly clamped her lips shut in an effort to keep from saying something she didn’t want to. He watched her in slight confusion while he tried to sort out the emotions that she seemed to be going through and why, even though she clearly stopped herself from saying anything else, it didn’t seem to be in an effort to calm down. She spun around slamming the fridge door closed before turning back to Cole.
He shifted to the side to give her plenty of room as she started to cross the room to the table. The shock of what he saw in her eyes froze him in place long enough for her to get past him and fight her scarf and bag free from the jacket she came home with. The look in her eyes wasn’t something that he would be likely to forget for the rest of his life. He suddenly realized with a start that it wasn’t rage that moved her now, it was fear. It was the sort of deep creeping fear that brought a burst of adrenaline with it and made you clumsy. Maia had the same kind of look in her eyes that he had seen a thousand times around the reservation, fear and despair. It seemed slightly out of context on her young face in his brightly lit kitchen, instead of beside a hospital bed. His gaze again went to the boy as she fumbled her belongings around her and shrieked at him.
Something deep in Nate’s gut told him that something about this was going to end very badly. Acting on that instinct he pushed himself slowly away from the kitchen counter and cleared most of the distance between himself and the young couple in one quiet stride. He had no idea what was going to happen but there was a good chance that if it was going to be as bad as he was expecting it to be, then he was going to need to be a lot closer. Staying well out of the volatile female’s way he kept his eyes on Cole waiting to see what reaction he was going to have to her probably unexpected outburst. There was something off here. Something that didn’t feel right to him, but he didn’t have the time right now to think it through and figure out what it was. He hoped that he could get all of them through this moment with enough grace and wisdom to have some breathing room to ruminate on it. So, for the moment he kept himself just out of Maia’s reach to give her the space she so obviously needed and his eyes glued to the boy at his table for the moment and waited.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #20 on Oct 21, 2009, 10:05pm »
Cole stared dumbstruck, as if Maia were not, in fact, a petite teenage girl and, in actuality an unexpectedly onrushing freight train. How had things suddenly gone so horribly, horribly wrong? “Wha--? I was...I just...I didn't mean...” he trailed off weakly. He hadn't intended any offense when he suggested that she sit down. It was just that she looked so spent and overwrought, the suggestion had been meant to show consideration, not to seem bossy. He choked back another couple of responses, as he felt suddenly confused and awkward. The last thing he ever wanted to do was seem overbearing. He tried to compose his thoughts, to come up with some way to explain himself, but everything he came up with just seemed like it would further complicate things. He needed to make sure he didn't sound like he was still trying to tell her what to do...he didn't have that right.
“You should never have come here,” she had screamed at him. The words burned in his ears and throbbed in his skull. His heart sunk. She was right. What right did he have to be here, to force himself into her life and expect her to allow him into her confidences? It was stupid. They had only just met, and he really hadn't shown her anything to be impressed with, just some goofy surfer boy with a head cold. The fact that he actually liked her and cared that she was upset and hurting was really beside the point. He never should have been here in the first place.
She was fighting to get her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, and the sight was cute and slightly amusing, causing him to stifle a quick smile and snort back a chuckle. Then it hit him that she was putting on her coat. She was leaving, and it was his fault! “Wait, Maia, it's okay. Don't leave. I'll go. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go. It's your house.” panic surged in him at the thought of driving her away, and he struggled to get to his feet, illustrating his willingness to leave. As he did, a ripple of pain shot down his back, starting at his shoulders and wrenching it's way all the way down to his feet. He buckled, not quite falling, but the effort caused him to grimace and let out a feeble groan. Still, he pushed himself away from the table, determined not to let his momentary weakness give cause for Maia to leave.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #21 on Oct 22, 2009, 10:15pm »
&these words were never true
now i find myself in question they point the finger at me again
you point the finger at me again
I WANT TO RUN AWAY
It was with a final desperate and furious heave that she at last managed to nearly rip the jacket from the back of the chair that it had knotted itself around, her arms flung forcefully into the sleeves as she fought her instincts, fought the desire to scream at them, to let the energy that she could feel almost tangibly rippling through her loose… What would she say, though, what could she say that wouldn’t end everything, destroy everything, cost her everything.
Never in her life had she despised her power more than she did right in this very moment. For all that it might have gained her, she would give everything in this instant to have never found it, to have never learned how to twist others, coerce, convince… She could feel it, the ache in her jaw, and chin, and teeth, bone grinding and pinching, as the tingling at the nape of her neck became actually painful. Her gaze snapped, shifting towards Nate as his slow and lumbering movements shifted him from his original position, forcing herself to rein herself in, and turn her gaze instead at the milkshake that slowly dropped melting whipped cream and ice cream from the overflow and onto the table.
Strangely enough, it took a force of will for her to resist the instinctual move to grab a towel and wipe up the spill, and the recognition of that thought almost made her laugh, an urge to burst into maniacal laughter or inane giggling, before she stifled it, and merely shook her head.
There came the recognition, then, that there had been words, as she turned her shadowed gaze from the milkshake, to the staggering, lean figure that even now could barely stand, could barely focus his attention, and yet she could not shake his gaze, overly bright and latched upon her as if she were the only thing in the room, or glowing radioactive… perhaps both.
“No. No, you –“ Again, her tongue clicks against the back of her teeth, forcing her words to a standstill as her fingers dig into the overlong hem of the plaid jacket, a ragged breath taken as she blinks rapidly, staring at him. This is your home more than it will ever be mine, you belong here, I never will…. The words were there… so close, and yet so impossibly far, words that she couldn’t take back, couldn’t explain. “Stay.” She utters, somewhere between a hiss and a whimper, turning sharply on her heel and back in what she could only guess was the direction that she had come from as the world swam in her vision without apparent cause.
“If I’m actually needed, you can get a hold of me at Billy’s.” She issues, in the general direction of where she had last seen the gentle giant, even as her hand finds the door and she pulls it open, almost hoping, almost daring either of them to try and stop her, but already knowing that neither of them would.
never say goodbye i wanna know the truth instead of wondering why i wanna know the answers
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #22 on Oct 26, 2009, 9:24pm »
Nate felt for Cole as the kids face went through the various stages of shock and then heartbreak. He had no idea what had happened in the last few days to bring these two so close together but from the reactions they were having to each other something certainly did. Cole was still struggling to find words when Maia finally yanked the jacket off the chair hard enough to knock it over. It hit Nate’s leg instead of the floor and he set it upright, moving it slightly further away from the two of them.
She struggled to get her arms in the sleeves of the now freed jacket with her jaw clenched tight enough that you could hear her teeth grinding together seemingly unaware of the tears that were filling her eyes and likely blurring her vision. Nate groaned slightly as he watched the dawning realization of what she was doing crept across Cole’s face and the kids expression turned to something nearer to panic. Nate was already moving by the time the boy started dragging himself to his feet. The kid staggered and stuttered out his plea for Maia to stay.
Nate reached out an hand to steady Cole and felt the shudder of pain ripple through the boy and under Nate’s hand it felt like Cole was trying to rip himself out of his skin. He glanced down at the kid in slightly more concern realizing that there was definitely something more wrong with him than just a cold. The kid pushed himself further away from the table and Nate stayed close enough to make sure that he wouldn’t keep going over backwards.
He looked past the kid to Maia and saw more pain in her eyes than he had seen on the faces of people much older. Confusion knit his brows together as he watched her struggle her way through the various emotions that played across her face. Whatever was happening here, Nate was sure, she hadn’t been expecting it. She finally forced out the broken command for Cole to stay here and realized suddenly that it wasn’t them that she was trying to get away from; it was herself. Stunned for a moment Nate still hadn’t moved when he heard her tell him where she would be if they needed her and slammed her way out of the door.
He turned his attention back to Cole watching to see if the boy would be foolish enough to try and chase after her. He wasn’t sure if the kid looked more stunned or afraid but suddenly he was steady on his feet. As if knowing what it was that she wanted helped him to center himself against whatever onslaught his body was waging against him. Nate suddenly hoped that Maia wouldn’t remain gone for long, he had a feeling that the boy might need her close while he fought his way through this.
A slight sigh escaped him as he recognized, now, the joys that his father must have felt dealing with three teenage daughters instead of just one. He pulled the chair behind the kid so if he fell at least he wouldn’t end up on the floor and headed for the phone. It was time to call Billy Black. Not only was he the elder for the tribe, which gave him more resources than Nate had for this kind of thing, but Billy’s son had gone through this not that long ago as well.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #23 on Oct 27, 2009, 9:59pm »
An icy wave of despair washed over Cole as he heard the front door shudder closed. She was gone. He still wasn't sure exactly how he'd managed to screw this one up so thoroughly. Numbly, he walked to the front window, watching Maia walk away. Part of him screamed to go after her, but hesitation won out in the end, unsure of how much worse he would make matters if he chased the after her. He hung his head, tears unexpectedly fighting their way to the surface. Oh yeah, he thought to himself, You're a real tough guy, aren't you? Impotent anger warred with self-loathing for a moment before the two decided to call a truce and join forces against his ego, which was already in full retreat. He felt ready to explode, either into tears or into a screaming fit, he wasn't sure which. It was if he were suddenly too small to contain the emotions welling up inside him, and he would simply burst. It was accompanied by another wave of nausea and a feeling of physical discomfort, as if stretched and pulled in too many directions. He steadied himself against the wall until the feeling subsided.
Turning to Nate, he saw that the large man was dialing the telephone. This, he thought, was the wiser course of action. No doubt he was calling Billy (he knew that name sounded familiar) to ask him to ask Maia to return home. He only hoped it would work, for Nate's sake. As it appeared that no one had answered on the other end of the line yet, Cole decided he'd best address the issue with the big man.
“Wow, Nate...That was...sorry.” he grinned feebly, halfheartedly, “Thanks for letting me hang out, though. Maybe next time I'm here I could set something on fire or something.” he swore at himself for the feeble attempt at humor. “I probably shouldn't be here when Maia comes back, though. Besides, my folks are probably worrying about me by now. Just...tell her I'm sorry when she gets back, okay? I really didn't mean anything by it, y'know?”
Cole dragged himself towards the door. His legs felt odd, awkward; like they were too thin and shaky to hold himself up. As he reached the door and put his hand on the knob, he paused. Billy...the name suddenly clicked. The old man in the diner, the one in the wheelchair. The one who had come in with Jacob. He sighed heavily.
“Billy's huh?” he said quietly to himself, “It's not Billy you're going to see, though, is it?” That explained a lot, why she became upset when he tried to pry; why he never should have come here. She had her shoulder to cry on, and it wasn't his. Well, if that was what made her happy, there was little he could do besides stay out of their way.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #24 on Nov 2, 2009, 11:27pm »
Nate watched as the kid headed for the front window. The boys eyes darted from the window to the door as he obviously contemplated chasing after her before wisdom got the better of that decision. Nate headed for the phone as the kids eyes began to water right before he collapsed against the wall in another attack of whatever was wrong with him. The boy was doing his best to tough it out, but Nate was really starting to wonder if the kid was going to be alright after all.
Cole started talking to him while he was listening to the other end of the phone ring. He shook his head at the boy's apologies, letting him know that Nate didn't blame him for the blow up tonight. When the boy started making his excuses to head out though Nate came over to him, phone in hand, and put a giant hand gently on the kids shoulder. 'Sit down kid' he said in a soothing baritone and gestured over to the couch. 'It'll be alright.
'Yeah, hey Chief Swan, it's Nate Penn. Is Billy still there with you by any chance?' he responded to the husky voice of the local police chief answering the phone. He glanced over at the boy and pointed again to the couch making it clear in no uncertain terms that he was to sit and stay, with a slight smile, and wandered into the kitchen to retrieve their milkshakes from earlier. 'Well, I'm not calling about Jake anyway,' He chuckled into the phone, 'Got a kid here for him to take a look at. Would like to talk to you too, while you're here.' he stated matter of factly. He came back into the room carrying both milkshakes and eyed the kid appraisingly, 'Yeah, rush would be good.' he decided, 'but not lights worthy.' he nodded then, 'Yeah...bye' he concludes and hangs up the phone.
Nate held out one of the milkshakes to the boy and took a seat in one of the chairs. After a moment or two of silence he looked over to the kid. 'Not your fault ya know.' He took a sip of his shake and stared out of the window down the street that Maia had stormed down a few minutes ago. 'Its rough on her right now. She was going to blow up soon at somebody. You just happened to be the one in her way right then.' he turned his eyes on Cole and just the slightest touch of sadness could be seen in their depths. 'She's here because she lost her whole family recently.' His gaze roamed around the room for a second before returning to the kids face, 'Turns out, I'm the last family she's got left. So I should thank you.' he gave Cole a genuine warm smile, 'She didn't blow up at me.'
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #25 on Nov 3, 2009, 11:56pm »
Cole heaved himself onto the couch, feeling suddenly very heavy and tired. Nate's assurance that everything was alright seemed pointless. He should go, he'd already made a train wreck out of the morning and it wasn't even breakfast time yet. Still, he didn't want to make the older man feel like he was the kind to make a mess and then run for the door. Nate was talking into the phone by then, to someone named Swan. The name didn't ring any bells, and Cole wondered what he was chief of. When the big man asked for Billy, however, a fresh bout of uncertainty came over him. Billy Black wasn't at home, then. That meant Maia would be there alone with Jacob. Anger blended into the heartache he felt at the thought of the two of them together. What would she tell to Jake that she wouldn't to Cole? And what else would they share? He tried to push the thoughts out of his mind. He had no cause to be jealous; it wasn't as if he had any claim on Maia. Sighing heavily, he sank back into the couch, closing his eyes as a wave of miserable weariness crept over him.
He awoke to Nate's returning footsteps to find that only a few moments had passed. In the darkness behind his eyes, it had seemed a lonely eternity. What the hell was wrong with him, anyway? It wasn't as if this was the first girl he'd ever felt attracted to. Still, this time the fall had been hard; and he'd barely even seen it coming. He felt stupid, slow, and useless. He took the milkshake that Nate offered, though it had lost a good bit of it's appeal. Nate was trying to tell him that Maia's storming out wasn't his fault, which Cole seriously doubted, when what Nate was saying finally sunk in.
“Oh my God, really?” her entire family was gone? Suddenly Cole felt even more of a heel for his clumsy advances. How could he be so insensitive? It was no wonder Maia got so angry. The thought of it, the enormity of the loss, made Cole's heart ache for her. He wished she were there, he wanted to offer words of comfort, but even as the thought entered his head, he knew it wasn't his place. He felt confused and clumsy.
The realization dawned on him then that that also meant that Nate had suffered the same loss. Though only a hint of it showed in the big man's features, he knew that it must be eating at him. “I'm sorry, man. I had no idea. What happened?” he was afraid he was prying again, but now he was concerned for Nate, as well. The trouble with being the tough guy, Cole well knew, was that you always suffered in silence. Too many people counted on you to be strong, so you had to keep on pretending to be invulnerable. Now he had Maia to look after, who had not only lost everything, but was alone in a new place. Cole knew he had to pull himself together. Nate was a good guy, and didn't need to try and deal with Cole's idiotic teen angst on top of everything else. Taking a sip of his milkshake, Cole shot a tentatively sympathetic glance over the cup to Nate.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #26 on Nov 4, 2009, 8:35pm »
Nate watched as Cole only half listened to what he was saying about Maia. The kid had laid his head back against the cushion and seemed to have nearly fallen asleep. The frown on the boys face seemed to imply that he didn't quite believe what Nate was telling him. Suddenly the boy's eyes snapped open as what he'd been told hit him. He nodded at the kids query answering more the boys tone of disbelief than the actual question. He sipped his shake as the kid tried to make sense of what he just found out. The kid kept glancing at the door as if wishing that it would open and Maia would come back in, though what the kid thought he'd do if she did no one knew.
He was barely watching the kid out of the corner of his eye, giving him time to think everything through when the kid turned his gaze back to him. There was something in the kids eyes that showed Nate again that Cole was a lot more observant than most people would give him credit for. He smiled gently at the kid, knowing first hand how hard it was to find just those right questions to get someone to open up and talk to you. 'Airplane crash. Both her parents.' he said simply, his low baritone slipping to that familiar soft cadence that usually accompanied these types of conversations. 'By the time they tracked me down she'd been with social services for a couple of months.' He sighed softly and looked around. He eventually turned back to Cole with another slight smile. 'I've been trying to make her feel at home. But this is a process, and getting mad is part of it. It'll help her heal and if we can stick with her through it, then it'd good for her to have some friends that went through the rough spots with her.'
Nate gave the barely perceptible shrug of his and flashed the kid another smile. 'I don't promise that it'll be easy though.' His gaze wandered the room again and settled for the briefest moment on the mantle piece where most families kept their precious photographs, this one devoid of any decoration. He looked back at Cole again, 'How're you feelin.' he asked eyeing him suspiciously before glancing toward the door.
He wondered briefly what Billy was going to think of this strange youth draped across his sofa. He certainly seemed to have whatever it was that the other boys had, and provided he could keep him sufficiently relaxed and distracted then he'd probably be fine until the guys could get here. It did remind him however that this time he'd have to pay a lot more attention to exactly what was going on over there in the Black house. As good of a boy as Jacob was he was well known around the rez for making a mess of whatever weird relationship he had with Chief Swans daughter, and he wanted to make sure that Maia didn't get caught up in whatever it was. The last thing she needed was more drama in her life right now.
His thoughts brought his gaze back over to the boy on his couch and he wondered just how much of this thing with Cole she was going to fight. It was pretty clear to him now that she didn't intend to stay on the rez any longer than absolutely necessary and her strong feelings for Cole had certainly put her plans in danger. Nate wondered if either of them understood exactly what was going on. He chuckled as it struck him that if they did then they would probably be the first teenage couple in history that did. As much as he knew they were both special, he seriously doubted that they were that special. He realized that this was going to take a lot of patience from him. Even more than he had originally thought, and that was saying something.
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #27 on Nov 7, 2009, 11:56pm »
”Like ass,” Cole confided, though he felt a bit guilty dwelling on his own mounting discomfort. The revelation about Maia's family had hit him like a sledgehammer, and he was fumbling to find the words to say to convey his sympathies. He followed Nate's glance up to the mantlepiece and noticed the distinct lack of family photos. He wondered how many family the big man had outlived, and felt a wave of sadness wash over him. He thought about what Maia must be going through, not only being a new kid on the rez, but having lost her own family and then been stuck in the system until they had found Nate. To be blunt, it must have sucked. Must apparently still be sucking. And he'd been so caught up in how incredible she was to notice. It was a mistake he'd try to avoid in the future, if only she'd give him the chance. Maybe it would be for the best if she were with Jake, he thought. Then he could focus on just being a good friend for the time they had together. After all, he still wasn't sure how long he'd be staying on the rez, and it was foolish of him to chase after Maia, to possibly win her over, only to wind up having to leave her behind. He wished he had more time, that he didn't have to leave La Push so soon, and that he wasn't doomed to spend his little remaining time here as a drooling half-zombie with the flu from hell. It just wasn't fair.
Cole set his milkshake on the coffee table and let his head drift back onto the couch. His head was throbbing and fever pains ran romper-stomper over him. He felt darkness close in around him, and in a matter of moments, slipped from waking into the realm of sleep.
Fever dreams haunted Cole as he slept fitfully on the couch. He dreamed of darkened forests, and fog-shrouded shores. As he ran through the rapidly shifting landscapes, he chanced upon strange sights and haunting sounds in the fog and shadows. He was following the sound of Maia's voice, and the scent of her exotic perfume on the wind. Every time he thought he was close to her, shadows would close over him like a crashing wave, and when the shadows finally subsided, her voice would be far-off and indistinct. Occasionally, through the shadows of the trees, he would see the flickering of a bonfire or the sound of primal drums and war cries which sounded more animal than man made. Once, he tried to cry out to her, but all that escaped his lips was a strangled snarl. At length, he drew close enough to her that he could hear her voice clearly, drowning out the war drums and the shouting which now more resembled the howling of wolves. Go back! she was shouting, You don't belong here! You never should have come here! Then suddenly he was alone on the beach. It was night, and a full moon shone clear and bright in the cloudless sky. The drums had faded into silence, as had Maia's voice, leaving only the sound of a single wolf howling, mournful and alone, infinitely sad. As the sea rushed over his paws (paws?), came the sudden realization the sound he was hearing was his own voice!
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #28 on Nov 9, 2009, 7:06pm »
Nate chuckled at the boys admission of how he felt. He didn't want to say it but if the kid felt half as bad as he looked then 'ass' was an understatement. He was glad that he had already called Billy. The sooner he got here the better at this point. He was nearly the baby in his family and wasn't too familiar with the sick person care when it came to something new.
He did notice the kid glance around the to fire place and back at him. He had that look that sympathetic people get when they don't want you to know how sympathetic they really are. He had to admit that the kid was a lot more observant than most people gave him credit for. Kid was distracted too. Cole kept glancing toward the door that Maia had left through and getting the distinct frown of someone who was trying to convince themselves that the other guy really was the best man. Nate had seen that look a lot in his life time, just never on someone so young before.
The boy set his shake on the table and rested his head. You could see the shivers running over him and Nate gave a nearly anxious glance at the door. The kids passed out as soon as his eyes were closed. Nate set his own cup down on the table and watched him. Whatever he was dreaming about was apparently unpleasant. His nose moved as if he was smelling something as his hands twitched slightly. Nate chuckled softly as he compared it to watching a dog dream, with thier nose going and paws twitching. Suddenly the boys face calmed into one of the most upsetting expressions of quiet misery that Nate had ever seen. It was a misery so deep and complete that it brought its own sense of tranquility with it.
Nate was still sitting there with a look of shock and concern on his face, wondering what could have brought a look of so much sadness to the kids face, when the knock on the door came.
Joined: Aug 2008 Gender: Female Posts: 471 Karma: 16
Re: Sittin' on the dock of the..... « Reply #29 on Nov 9, 2009, 8:49pm »
[justify]It hadn't taken the Chief long at all to update Billy on what little he knew of the situation; neither of the men were much in the way of words, if either of them was it was Billy more so than Charlie, and as soon as the Quileute had heard mention of trouble on the reservation, he was quicker than most might have expected him capable of in packing up his things and the two of them were off. Charlie had, on his way out, taken the time to check the status of his issued firearm, sliding it into the holster at his waist, underneath his jacket. Not that he expected to have to use it, but with all of the strange things that had been ongoing around Forks in the last year or two, he had found it better safe than sorry.
Billy had gathered his cooler, with the left overs of his six packs, and the two had set off -- without the sirens or the flashy lights -- towards the reservation. Neither one had offered any speculation as to what the problem could be that Nate felt was necessary to call Billy up at the Sheriff's house, but they both had come to the determination that it had to be something that Nate had deemed serious. He was the last on the reservation to cause trouble, or stir up the gossip, and it was that understanding that had Charlie pressing his foot a little more towards the floor than he might have otherwise.
Technically, while the reservation fell under his jurisdiction, he had little actual hold there, there was a tribal council and appointed 'deputies' that dealt with most of the trouble there, he usually only had to deal with the occasional overflow, such as one of the bouts of youthful exuberance that Jacob and one or two of his friends might stir up in town, or the after affects of a post-game celebration of Paul Huron, and his collective followers. All in all, nothing more than he would expect. He had, in fact, been somewhat relieved when it had seemed that Bella and Jacob had seemed to be hitting it off after her return, but... that had seemed to get set to the wayside in the wake of her flourishing relationship with the Cullen boy. It didn't seem to strike him as odd, that even with the wedding imminent, only weeks away at this point, that he still had trouble referring to Edward as anything other than... the Cullen boy, he mused, as the car pulled into the long dusty driveway that led up to the house that belonged to Nate.
He noted, with a quiet grunt of surprise, the frame of the add-on to the back side of the house, and cast a questioning glance over towards Billy, as he moved to tug the wheelchair out of the back of the sedan.
"Expanding the bedroom for his niece. Maia." Billy explains, to the monosyllabic question, his reply receiving a slow nod from the Sheriff as the wheelchair was clicked into place, and Billy 'walked' himself over into the seat. He had already updated the Sheriff to the pieces of Maia's story he'd been able to determine as factual, after their brief run-in with the distraught girl earlier in the day, who had brushed off the Sheriff's questions with what both men thought to be practiced ease as she had tucked herself away inside to wait for Jacob. The girl had only been on the reservation about a week or so, now, but already she and Jacob seemed to have been clicking fairly well, if gauged by the day spent at the beach, the times spent hanging out on Billy's porch, and then the day long adventure out to Port Angeles that Jacob had been only briefly chastised for.
Billy had hoped that somewhere in all of these last months, Jacob and Bella would have been able to get a handle on whatever it was that was between him, but he had gotten to the point now where he was more frustrated with the situation than anything else. Jacob had become increasingly restless as Bella's wedding to the vampire approached, and Billy had little advice to offer to his son that he hadn't already. He couldn't say that Maia would have been his preferred second choice, if he was being honest -- she'd suffered enough of a trauma in recent months of her own that he doubted she'd be the most stable of influence upon Jacob, but.. there was time yet, on all counts.
Their attention turned, once again, and almost simultaneously, towards the house as Billy navigated his chair out from behind the door, bumping the passengers door closed even as Charlie had moved up onto the porch, his knuckles rapping a beat onto Nate's front door. Billy took a moment to run through what 'kid' it was that Nate could have been calling about, and given what he'd seen of Jacob and his latest additions to his friends, could only settle upon Maia, or perhaps Cole, the boy that had returned earlier in the week that Jacob had been spending time with this last week. Everyone else would have their own parents to turn to, or Sam... His lips curled into a frown, at that thought, as he wheeled towards the edge of the steps leading up to Nate's house, a sudden crease of worry sliding between his brows. [/justify]
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