Viva la Vida

Twisted fate. Gnarled, broken, shattered, twisted, twisted fate. I hope it was, before the end begins and we are all floundering for something that means more than empty lines inked onto your skin, meaningless words that seep into your bones. The lies that you tell yourself. The difference between the truth that grips you in fear, or lies that make you question your own mind.

I hope it's twisted. I hope it's broken, tipped, wrenched... I hope it was this painful from the beginning so it doesn't hurt that I feel nothing. That it doesn't hurt that God has, had, given up on me. That this isn't some kind of sick punishment for those long Sundays that I could be in church, could be listening and watching and praying. I hope that this holocaust isn't some kind of personal score that he settled with me.

"We're even."

God, I hope not.

I hope that this mephitis isn't the way I was meant to be snuffed out like a light, disposed of like a dirty rag and drenched in my own kind of hell. What could be worse, I hope, than the slow fading darkness that surrounds and destroys and does away with me?

What could be worse, I hope?

"We're even."
Seeing the light of day.

"...-Our new budget is up in the foyer, please choose your holidays before September as you can see we are having some trouble..."

Dave sighed, leaning back in his office chair forcing his head not to loll against the plush leather and take a quick cat nap against the head rest. He didn't know why, no one in this damn meeting would notice if he stipped naked, smeared himself in peanutbutter and starting dancing on the table.

"...-People! We have to tighten our belts, this isn't the little leagues anymore..."

Bzz! Bzz!

Dave sat up, pulling his phone out of his pocket discreetly checking it under the table.

To: Me

dude, when are u getting off?

let's go for a late dinner?

From: Egderp- Sent: 9:49 pm

Dave glanced up at the speaker, tapping a diagram urgently with a stupid little pointer that Dave wanted nothing more than to shove up his ass.

To: Egderp

Ten minutes, calm your teeth. Sushi?

From: Me- Sent: 9:50 pm

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and went back to his half dozing, soothed to sleep by the sound of finance budgeting and tax-something-or-other.

Bzz! Bzz!

To: Me

hey! it's not my fault u r always at work. did u like that place around the corner from rose's apartment? i can grab u something?

From: Egderp- Sent: 9:54 pm

"... I know we all have to work some overtime to make up for this but in the end it will all be worth it..."

To: Egderp

Teriyaki chicken. See u in ten.

From: Me- Sent: 9:55

Bzz! Bzz!

To: Me

see u!

From: Egderp- Sent: 9:57

"... I'd like to thank you all for staying late and have a good evening. Anything you'd like to add, Mr. Strider?"

The room turned to him, languid and tired begging him not to drag this on any more than he had to.

"I think that just about covers it."

The room exhaled and Dave almost felt good.

In a shuffling of coats and burst of chatter, everyone rose from their seats and grabbed bags and shut laptops. Dave did the same, wincing at his empty screen, a screen that should've been filled with notes. Oh well, he had practically drawn up the budget statement all by himself anyway. The only reason he was at this meeting was to save face and save face he did, it was a yawn fest.

The tide shifted and everyone flooded out of the room, suits and business skirts came up to him and talked budget but Dave was only half interested, their ass-kissing could wait for a day when he was less exhausted. When the sun was higher in the sky and he was ready to swallow his pride and do his job.

And this was more than his job, this was his fantasy. The one thing he spent university dreaming about, the one thing that got him through that God awful internship in New York theater, the one thing that kept him going through financial trouble and all of his best friends getting where they wanted to be before him. This was the one thing. Now he had it all.

A nice apartment (read "Bitch-fucking awesome" apartment), a nice car, a couple of his own interns and thousands of employees, a couple of corporate branches and to top it all off, a shit ton of cash. Plus, a handful of friends that brought it all together for the times when money and power and a huge company just wouldn't cut it. To say he was lucky would be an understatement.

"I really hope that you are only grabbing your coat because you are chilly, not because you intend to walk out that door any time soon."

Dave sighed, slipping his jacket onto his shoulders and turning to see Rose in all her glory, hand on her hip, judgemental, the best assistant in the world. Rose.

"It's ten o'clock." You were begging and perfectly fine with that.

"That it is." She drawled. "However, budget tweaks wait for no man. Plus, you've got a Kyoto phone call to make and, no Dave, I won't make it for you."

You sighed, shoulders slumped "I'm meeting Egbert for some grub, I'll do it tomorrow."

"You can't slack this, Dave, this deal is-"

"'Really important for our overseas branches'. I know, Rose, I do listen when they talk to me, you know?"

She smirked. "I always found you listened best when you were half asleep." The smile fell, but not completely. "But you can't get away from this, I don't want this all to go up in flames."

Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll make the phone call." He conceded. "The budget can wait until morning."

"Alright." She passed him an office phone. "Hope you've been brushing up on your Japanese."

" 迷子になる" He quipped. Pressing 'Talk' and stalking away.

"You love me..." Rose called behind him and he wondered fleetingly why God hated him so much.

Three hours later he flipped the phone closed with a shower of 'Thanks you' s and 'That's Fantastic's, tugging at his tie with a long sigh. The office slowly emptied itself and he was all alone seated in his office. The coffee he had made while waiting on the sister companies president laid cold and almost empty on his desk. His head pounded and his eyes burned behind his eyelids.

Rose had poked her head in an hour and a half ago gesturing to him that she was leaving (Dave had flipped her off but waved her away, no use in making other suffer) and he had texted Egbert to just go ahead and take the chicken home with him, he would come pick it up and pay him back tomorrow. Dave fully expected him to eat it himself but couldn't care less. All he cared about was his warm apartment and warm bed, right now.

He grabbed his coat and briefcase (Rose had given it to him as a joke, he used it ever since) heading out to the parking garage thanking God once again that he didn't bring his motorcycle that morning. The black Lexus looking much more comfortable.

He drove him absentmindedly wondering if there was anything edible in his fridge (doubtful) or if any take-out places were open past twelve (Maybe). If that black smudge was a person or another car or a stree-... (Oh sh-)

SLAM!

Dave was wrenched forward so fast his neck ached, his chest pounded from the feeling of being crushed by his seatbelt. A belch of steam and heat and then it stopped. Stillness tightened around him, the only sound his racing heart in the quiet.

"Holy fuck..."

He breathed, leaning his head against the backrest, swallowing hard a few times trying to think of anything but the fear that was threatening to build up and tear him apart.

Okay, alright. Jesus... Holy fuck. You're alright. You are fucking alright. He took a few big gulps of air, struggling to get himself under control before assessing the situation. He lifted his head off the head rest and rotated it gently, it ached but nothing to bad. Alright, okay, next: Legs. The impact slammed the hood up against the windshield of the car, probably leaving an impressive dent in the front of it as well. But his legs seemed, remarkably, untouched. Rigid and shaking, but otherwise fine.

Okay... 9-1-1, I guess?

Carefully, he untangled himself from his seat belt and wrenched the squished door open with a grunt. Metal creaked and groaned and somehow he tumbled out. Patting his pockets for his cell-phone.

"Shit." He hissed. It was on the passenger's seat. Glaring at the steaming hunk of metal for a moment he decided not to brave it, already putting his life in danger too much for one night. He glanced around, the street was deserted, the lights of surrounding houses flicked off and the stillness was both scary and calm.

To the left down back the way he came he knew there was a 24 hour Husky station but that wasn't for a little bit. To the right it would be double that to find something. Groaning he stuffed his hands into his pockets and prepared to brave the storm, cold, November air biting in the night.

Something flickered out of the stillness before he could take a step, a voice that followed it's way through the cold and somehow managed to find his own little version of hell out here in the cold. It made him stop and wait, eyes scanning the empty street, following the sound until a light caught his eye.

Behind him was a field dotted with trees and shrubs, a concrete path weaving in and out of sight towards a building unidentified for the steeple that rose up above the tree line, above the houses planted near by. Dark and shadowed, out of the path of streetlights. In this light it should have looked sinister but it didn't. It looked... Lonely.

The voice kept humming and Dave was frozen, he sighed. What do I have to lose?

Forging a path across the field he found the concrete path just before it turned into cracked steps that led to the huge doors nestled between vine draped walls. One was flung open, a stone holding it there against the wind, casting a faint glow over the ground under Dave's feet. The humming turned to singing and the singing turned to words. One's so painfully familiar but strangely foreign.

"Die linden Lüfte sind erwacht, Sie säuseln und weben Tag und Nacht."

It was a countertenor (as Rose would say) sweet and just high enough to make the music flow and swing. Dave made his way inside, the chapel making way for him as he stepped through the high doors and was greeted to low candlelight and the occasional modern light flickering on and off mechanically. The benches were long and dotted with bibles and fraying, fading seat cushions, all were empty, except for one.

"Sie schaffen an allen Enden. O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang!"

The church was large, but small. Window's adorned with stain glass of saints and Jesus on the cross. The walls a hard cedar, bowing over arching rafters that reached towards the steeple high above his head. The voice rose, bouncing off the walls, spiralling towards the minaret gracefully. Dave stood, captivated.

He could see the singer from where he stood, nestled in the corner farthest from the isle, the second pew from the front. Head covered by a grey hoodie and shoulders shrouded hunched against the cold. It looked small, or maybe it was the shady light that bathed the whole place.

"Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang! Nun muß sich alles, alles wenden..."

It trailed off and became quiet once again, flooding the church in silence for a long time. So long Dave wondered if he should just give up hope, watching the figure as it stood still. Cut off with more to say, Go on... Dave thought. I'm not going to stop you...

But it didn't go on, the singer tipped it's head back to rest against the uncomfortable wood and let out a sigh through his nose. Dave couldn't see it's face from here but the candlelight flickered over it just as it sat back. Outlining a shining whiteness that stood out for only a moment before it disappeared again.

"Shit..."

The whisper fell from it's lips, rapturously defeated in a way Dave had never known. He had seen enough, turning on his heel ready to get the hell out of dodge when his hip bumped into a table he didn't know was there making it slam too loudly into the wall.

The singer jumped out of his skin whirling around so fast he tripped over his own feet and fell against the pew, tugging it's hood up over it's head. It backed away like a trapped animal, face completely hidden Dave could still see him shaking.

"Hey!" Dave floundered, striding forward with hands held up. "Wait- I didn't mean to scare you I just need to use a phone-!"

The figure turned on it's heel and ran into the darkness of the church, footfalls echoing until Dave was alone all over again. The church just as it was.

"Fuck." Dave muttered. "Smooth, Strider. Really, smooth." He ran a hand over his face, exhaling more harshly than he needed to. He walked up the nearest pew and sunk down into it. Face in his hands, head leaning against the pew in front of him, eyes watching the plastic fibres on the carpeted floor sparkle in the candlelight.

A flash to his right caught his eye and he glanced over underneath the pews a few in front of his. It sparkled, a moulded hunk of metal attached by a chain near the place where the singer once sat. Intrigued, he stood, weaving his way through the benches to the second one from the front, stooping down low to pluck it from the ground and twirl it in his hands.

It was... Something. He had no idea what, an animal maybe? It was melted and gnarled and barely holding onto the cheap beaded chain the was weaved between the twisted ingot.

It must have been his, the kids. Dave thought, weighing the necklace in his hands glancing around the church. He should put it back, leave it just where he found it and hope that the kid comes back and finds it, eventually. Or, better yet, throw it in the trash on the way out. After all, the little fucker was his only hope, failed hope.

But he doesn't. In one spurred, stupid momentary lapse of reason he shoves the necklace into his pocket and stalks away from the pew and out into the cold.

Smooth. Really, smooth...

"You. You are the stupidest thing this world has ever known David Strider." The voice crackled over Dave's cellphone as he puttered around his apartment that afternoon, tucked between his shoulder and ear. "You ran into a pole? Who the fuck runs into a pole?"

"Are you done, Egbert?" Dave bitched, pouring himself a bowl of cereal (because he fucking could, he was still twenty-six) and replacing the milk jug in the fridge. "Because this stopped being funny two hours ago."

"This will never stop being funny." John countered, still guwaffing. "But seriously, though, nothings broken?"

"Right as rain, four eyes. Nothing broken but my wheels." It was true, after his little supernatural incident at the church he had made his way down to the gas station and called a tow truck and made his way to the hospital not bothering to call Rose until the next morning figuring she would already be at home and asleep by now. He had been on his phone with the insurance agency all morning and fending off a pissed, yet passive, Rose before they worked it all out and rose forced him into a day off. To 'recover'. Dave had a nagging feeling that budget would be waiting on his desk when he got in tomorrow.

"And any pride that you managed to attain."

"Please, fuck off."

John cackled on the other end. "Well, that's what you get for working so hard. You should take a vacation, relax. None of us really want to come to your funeral."

"Lies. You're all about finger food."

"Touche." He conceded. "But it's true, we, I want you around for a long, long time. Capiche?"

"Don't get all sentimental on me, Egbert." Dave growled. "I just might have to cut all ties with you."

"Only in your dreams."

"Hmm."

"So, are you coming to the Christmas party this year." John asked, casually.

"Dude..." Dave groaned.

"Don't jump on the defensive, man!" John was quick to calm him down. "I know you have a lot to do with the company and Christmas, but everyone's missing you. Like, a lot. We hardly see you at all anymore and your brother-"

"John..." He warned, they were wading into dangerous territory here, territory Dave wasn't even willing to dip his toe into right now. "Look. I'll see what I can do, alright? But not promises."

John sighed. "Fine." He paused. "Don't crash anything between then and now."

"Fuck off." Dave growled hanging up on John's incessant, annoying giggling. Munching on his frosted flakes and staring numbly at the kitchenette from where he stood by the counter.

It wasn't as if he wanted to forget his friends, blow off parties, not be there. But dedication was a necessity in these circumstances, in any circumstances as Rose loved to remind him. And his brother..? He didn't want to think about his brother right now.

Normally he would have refused to take the day off adamantly, leaving by ten was one thing, taking a whole day off was quite another but his neck still ached a little and the incident at the church had thrown him off a little. Despite his cool facade and knack for never showing his distress Rose had called him on it.

'You look like you've seen a ghost. Take today off, I don't want you here.'

It wasn't subtle, but hey, it got him out.

And maybe he had seen a ghost, maybe the whole church was a figment of his overactive imagination, starving for answers in his fog of confusion and almost whiplash. Maybe the voice had all been some sort of figment and that vacation wouldn't be such a bad idea. Or, at least, that's what he thought this morning when he shimmied out of his coat and a small, silver hunk of disfigured metal had tumbled from his coat pocket and onto his bedroom floor.

And he knew he was absolutely, utterly screwed.

It was like a weight. A weight that dragged Dave down through the next three days, always there, unmoving. He knew he should get rid of the damn thing, throw it in the trash and forget about it. But every time he stood in front of the garbage can ready and wanting he found he couldn't. So he tucked it on a shelf and tried to forget about it.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't forget about the stupid little necklace and sitting on it's perch it was mocking him. Mocking his own weakness, his own madness.

The car had been sorted out, it was his fault (distracted driving) but he didn't hurt anyone and the pole came away from it unscathed so the fines were low. He had rode his bike to work ever since.

He never tried to tell Rose or John about his experience in the church, Rose would send him in for a head exam and John would laugh and expect it was another attempted on his part, at irony. And maybe it was a little bit of embaressment, what if it was fear that induced some sort of weird hallucination? The singer did have something weird on his face, maybe he just melded reality with the horror movies he used to marathon with John when they were in university?

But that didn't explain the necklace, or the feeling that something terrible would happen if he got rid of it.

He lasted three days, almost, before he cracked.

It was late when he was tossing and turning in bed, a cold Thursday head filled with the sounds that flittered between his eyelids the darkness doing nothing to diminish the presence he knew was there. He knew. With an almighty sigh he pushed himself out of bed, dressed in the clothes he had scattered carelessly across the floor hours before and plucked the necklace from it's spot on his shelf. He put it there, stuffed behind some books so he couldn't see it, it didn't make it go away, if anything, it made it more real.

He bundled up in his winter jacket and wrapped up in a truly ironic tweed scarf John had gotten him a few years ago (surprisingly, it became less ironic and more itchy each year) and braved the weather that had turned even colder since the accident. Bypassing the parking garage and heading down the road, he needed some time to clear his mind and the roar of his bike would scare away what he thought, hoped, would be there.

He had avoided thinking about it until now but as he walked, briskly with his cheeks getting rosy in the cold, he wondered what he really expected to find in the church. The boy, was it a boy? Or some answers that he wasn't crazy, that he hadn't imagined it all? He fished around in his pocket and gripped the necklace tighter, lacing the chain around his fingers. Or maybe he was...

Before he could think to hard the church was looming before him, a beacon and impossibly dark but just as lonely as that night a few days ago. But this time, Dave hesitated before the doors. He heard no singing from inside but he could just make out the faint light shining through the shrubs, soft and flickering like the night of the accident.

Hunkering down against the cold he moved without thinking too much and pushed his way towards the double doors, feeling the heat splash across his face as the light slid across him, illuminating the path, casting his shadow onto it.

He moved slowly, carefully, eyes falling across the church this time knowing what he was looking for. Or at least, what he hoped he was looking for. And for a moment, his chest felt tight and his head dropped to his stomach in aching dread. No one, there was no one here.

"Give it back!"

Dave jumped out of his skin, whirling around to find the figure standing just out of the candlelight a few meters away from him. He was hunched down on himself, shoulders practically up to his ears. His voice was raspy and strained, like he hadn't spoken for a long time. Dave still couldn't see his face.

"What are-?"

"I know you have it..." He growled, his voice shook, making it less than sinister. "I know you have it, so give it back!"

"What were you singing?" It came out before Dave could stop it, the question that had been bugging him since before he questioned his sanity. Or maybe after, he couldn't tell anymore.

The kid froze. "What?"

"What was the song you were singing when I came in? I know the tune but I don't know what you were singing."

He shifted, obviously uncertain. "It doesn't matter, give me it!"

"Tell me and I'll give you the necklace." Dave compromised quickly.

The boy hesitated, shifted and fidgeting for a moment before mumbling something.

"Sorry?" Dave snapped out.

"Frühlingsglaube!" He spat. "A German art song by-"

"-Schubert."

The kid's shuffling stopped for a moment. "Yeah. But-"

"Not the original words, they were written by Ludwig Uhland as a poem-"

"Faith in Spring."

Dave smiled even though he knew he couldn't see it. "Yeah." He sighed, placing the necklace down on the ground and sliding it over. The boy stooped down to pick it up, cradling it to his chest. "Sorry I took it, I just didn't want it to get lost."

He snorted but said nothing.

"What is it supposed to be? An animal?"

He mumbled something into his hoodie, turning away.

"What?"

"A crab!" He growled. "It's... Supposed to be a crab."

"Is it?"

"Yes." He snapped. Slipping the necklace into his pocket like it was a precious treasure instead of a deformed hunk of metal and stood awkwardly.

Dave sighed and walked away from him, through the isle of the church and sat down at one of the pews purposefully near the spot he had seen the kid before. Leaning against the hard wood.

"What are you doing?"

Dave snorted. "Sitting." His voice echoed through the hollow walls of the church. "Do you have a problem with that?"

The boy scoffed quietly, mumbling louder but not so loud Dave could catch it. "What?"

"Nothing!" He growled. "Do what you want..."

The sound of shuffling footsteps echoed in the church and Dave watched the top of the church, watching it just long enough to it spun in front of his eyes.

Well, at least I'm not crazy... Right?

Dave will concede that after returning the necklace he really had no reason to come back to the church, at least not to see the strange boy. Had no reason to be distracted at work, spill coffee all over himself, and an unfortunate passerby, have the words of his budget transfer swim before his eyes. No reason to find himself mindlessly doing nothing in his own office and ignoring calls because he can. No reason to have Rose corner him a week later, hand on his chest, lips turned down in her disappointed 'what the hell do you think you're doing?' sneer that could impale full grown elephants.

"Are you sure you didn't sustain any long-term injuries from that car accident?" She demanded, boxing him in with just her eyes and one little finger on his ribcage. "Because I have never seen you so neglectful of anything the way you have been of everything for the past ten days."

Dave don't bother to bat the finger away, it would just come right back anyway. "I'm fine." He huffs. "Just a little distracted."

Rose raises a delicate brow. "Distracted?"

"Distracted. I'm sorry, alright? It's been a stressful week." It has, and she knows it. "I'm almost done with that budget write up-"

"The same one from last week?"

"-And it will be on your desk ready to be sent out by tomorrow." He cuts her off. "I'll even lick the stamps myself, if you so desire."

"Thoughtful, but unnecessary." She pulls her hand away to pat at his cheek. "Just... Brave this storm and then I'll give you the rest of your life off. Or however long Egbert feels necessary."

"I knew you two were cohorts." He accused.

"I have no cohorts, sweetheart, only accomplices." Rose sashayed down the hallway like she owned the place.

She does... He thought. She really does...

He finished the budget that night and slapped it onto her empty desk at ten thirty, stamps and all. Finding his way out to the parking garage, he bought a new car (Rose bought it, stopping him from arriving at work with 'bugs in his teeth' as she put it from riding his motorcycle) much the same as his last one. And made his way home with the darkness descending. A light layer of snow still sticking from when it snowed a few nights prior.

It was quiet for ten, but then again, it was always quiet on this part of town. The part of town near the church. Dave cringed, shaking his head to drive the memory away, the last thing he needed to remember right now was the church or the weird kid that knew too much about music.

But not as much as you... His head supplied unhelpfully. No, he thought, not as much as me. He supposed years of living with a loathing and suppressed adoration of classical music had somehow boiled down to something close to respect. Or so he claimed, that didn't stop him from collecting the all art song arrangement CDs he could find. How could he help it if Shubert was a classic?

Absorbed in his own thoughts he was only wrenched away when something small and black darted in front of him. Illuminated by his headlights and the falling snow.

Not again!

He braked with a squealing of tires and swerved to the left and back again, feeling wrenched and his neck snapping all over again. In one painful heart wrenching moment he felt like he was going to flip over as his wheels lifted off the ground but all at once they were slamming down again and he was swerving to a stop. Breathing heavily, the smell of burnt rubber wafting into his nose. At least it's not burning flesh...

Oh no, did I hit someone?

A new energy filling him, Dave wrenched his door open in time to see the figure stumbling away limping too quickly on a hurt leg across a field. Dave's heart wrenched. The church's field.

"Hey! Stop!"

Huffing a breath he took chase towards the figure, (knowing full well who it really was) bolting across the grass and through the open front door. The church was bathed in light like always, only this time he could see the figure clearly, stumbling down the aisle, his hoodie more purple than grey and the small tufts of hair pushing out beyond the folds. They grey shoes and pants.

"Stop!"

He didn't, just kept going until he tripped over his own stumbling feet and tumbled to a heap on the ground. Hood sliding off, as his hair sprung out eyes scrunched shut against the pain, or maybe the shame. Dave stuttered to a stop.

Oh...

The light bathed the figure's face, making it shine in all it's glory even scrunched up through squinting eyes. The scars stretched across his face, wide and splayed out from the bottom on his neck, disappearing beyond his hoodie's collar to right before his hairline. A thousand of them, discolouring and whitewashing his skin. Making gnarled little tracks across his neck and over the skin of his eye. White with age, Dave knew he hadn't inflicted them but there was a sizable rip in the knee of one of his jeans, oozing blood.

"I'm sorry..." Dave said, wincing as it bounced off the walls. "I didn't see you, I just thought-"

"Don't try to ignore it, it makes you look stupid." The boy snapped, agitated, angry but he didn't try to get to his feet Dave doubted he could.

"Maybe I don't give a single fuck." Dave snapped right back before he could help himself.

"Maybe you're a liar." The kid bit, tugging his hood back over his head. Mumbling something into his hand.

"Ugh... Stop." Dave ground out tiredly, taking a few steps and dropping down in front of him. "Just stop."

"Why?"

Dave didn't say anything, just tugged his jacket off and unceremoniously ripped off a chunk. Staring at the kid expectantly.

"What?" He sputtered.

"Are you going to do this, are do I have to?" He gestured toward his leg and the kid blushed snatching the fabric from his hand and rolling up his baggy jeans. His legs were long and skinny, and hairy as fuck. He inspected the oozing wound for a moment (yeah, it was pretty bad) before wiping at the blood with the cloth and pressing it against the cut gently.

He mumbled something against his hoodie's collar and Dave huffed. "Mumble one more time and I will run you over. Again."

The kid looked up, startled for a split second. "Thank you, asshole." He enunciated 'asshole' with everything he had and Dave had to bite back a laugh, wondering if this kid was really a kid at all.

"You're welcome."

They sat in silence for a few moments, both watching the kid staunch the blood before Dave couldn't take it anymore.

"Why do you come here?" He blabbed before he could stop himself.

The kid shrugged, seeming to collapse in on himself. "I don't know. I just like it, got a problem with that?"

"Do I look like it?" Dave asked then sighed. "Don't answer that."

The kid snorted. "You're weird." He decided. "Why are you here?"

"Because I hit you with my car."

"No you didn't" He admitted. "I got this hopping the fence because a dog was-" He cut himself off with a choke and a cough. Head pushing down even lower to work on his knee.

"You were being chased by a dog?"

"No," He choked. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"How do you know so much about music?"

The kid faltered. "What do you mean?"

"You know, the song you were singing that day" Dave waved his hand in a general direction, feeling awkward for the first time in a long time. "You knew all the words and the composer and the original lyricist. You need to know something about music to know all of that."

"I like it. The tune's nice."

"Do you play any instruments." Dave saw him tense. Had he dug too deep into something he had nothing to do with?

"Yeah... Piano." He said softly. "I play piano."

"Do you sing and play?"

"If I had a piano, maybe." He growled.

There was another pause, quiet and awkward and Dave felt an itching need to ask, to know. To understand.

"Why do you come here to sing?" He asked, carefully, like approaching at wild animal.

The kid shrugged. "There's only so much you can do when you look like this." He gestured to his face. "Going to church seems a little desperate in the daylight."

"It's not desperate in the dead of night?"

"Not when no one's around to see it."

Dave chuckled. "I guess. Would you want to go to church in the daytime?"

"I don't know." The kid admitted. "Maybe I'm hoping being here will do something that being at home can't do."

"What's that?"

"Make it stop hurting."

Dave paused. Watching the kid tense when he realised his mistake and curl even more into himself, hunch over into his own little ball. Implode when he deviled his own weakness to a perfect stranger, or maybe not so much of a stranger. The truth rung in every syllable and it was so relatable it was almost painful. He knew what the kid felt and it was nothing medicine or band-aids or even somebody's ripped up pieces of suit could fix. He knew it too well.

He couldn't let it go unsaid.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it either.

"I get it."

The kid glanced up at you, eyes flashing with something you couldn't possibly understand. You could never understand.

But somehow you did.

I get it...

It was almost eleven and you were buzzing with something almost like excitement. You couldn't help it, days have been spent sneaking around Rose brought you to this moment. This one moment, bathed in candle light. Black and shining right where you left it three hours prior. You've been waiting ever since.

Waiting... Waiting...

The footsteps crunched against gravel and you looked up, shadows blocking the doorway and he stopped miles, meters, inches away from you. Frozen in his place with shoulders dusting with a fine film of snow. Shoulder's hunched low but eyes so bright and curious it could melt the ice that stuck to the dead vines and leafless trees.

"Why did you..?

"Play something for me."

The kid laughed, long and loud and it carried across the pews and through the candle smoke up above the rafters and into the steeple before disappearing into the cold winter air that makes your chest ache and steals your breath away. The kind that makes you wonder if spring will ever come again. If anyone could ever understand.

But they will.

"Sure."

END