the bridge // caleb leisure, day 7

"Andy?" 

She's said his name a thousand times, slapped him half as many, hugged him even less. It's the day after her father's funeral and she melts into her brother's arms, craddled into his lap and he's just as speechless as she is. Caleb clings to Andorra, his knife still in her leg and her's in his back. Left hand wrapped around his rib cage and right digging into his spine, she hears his last groan right over her neck. 

There's blood in her lap, Andy's dead in her arms and Little is laying next to her. It's a blue morning and she's a few steps from freedom, from leaving with Andy until tomorrow and the day after, and they leave the arena together. She'd make it home and meet his sister, and his sister would meet Bambi, and it'd make sense. It may only be in her fucking head but at least it hurts so much less; "you're stupid, you're so so fuckin' dumb-" don't leave me. 

Please, don't leave me here alone. 

Even in her deepest nights, she was never alone, and neither was he. They had each other from the beginning and she held his pinkies in the hotel, shared cherries and glued googly eyes to the pits. Pretended that this was just another week, and they'd be back home Monday. Studying for Algebra on Tuesday and he could come visit Joan- "you would have loved him, you know that? You two would have been so cool," he always kept her safe, just like Joan would have. 

She doesn't move a muscle, it hurts too much. Every centimeter she wiggles, the knife stiffens in her leg. She bleeds on his hand until its the only warmth left in the field, the ghost trees hum that lullaby. "Get up dude," tugging at his waist, "come on, we're so close, Andy." Little doesn't move a hair, and Andy's even stiffer, his head flat in her neck, "come on, break time's over." 

Don't get lost, or Amelia will come. And that's the biggest of their problems, Amelia's on their toes and Andy's going to have to protect her again- c'mon. One more time, Andy, one more day, "please," make it stop hurting. Please, please, fuck don't leave me like this, Andy. She begs to the universe, biting her lip to stop her sobs but they break through until it hurts. "You look lame, on television, come on," please, "come on, dude," you can't be dead. 

Not without me. 

He doesn't move and she doesn't either, only falling to her side with him. She burrows her head into his shoulder and feels his chin on her scalp, taking off her coat and laying it on top of both of them. "Okay, okay, but tomorrow," she can't admit it. After fucking everything- every stupid thing she's ignored and believed, she can't admit a single damn thing yet. "Twenty more minutes, okay, I can give you twenty more minutes," she squeezes him by his ribs until his cannon calls. 

"Pinkies out, promise me -- we have to get going after that, Andy." 

Amelia's already caught up to Andy, Caleb just doesn't know it. 

"Okay, dude?" 

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