Ascension

Chapter 12

Mick started when he felt Carly tug on his sleeve. He looked around and saw her holding out a mug of hot coffee. He took it from her with a grateful smile, patting the top of her head affectionately and smoothing her reddish hair back. He had often thought her strange, even unnatural, but sometimes, the girl’s quiet, observant nature was more endearing than anything else he knew.

“Want to make it Irish?”

Mick glanced at Reid, who placed a small decanter of whiskey on the low table between them. He nodded and held his mug out, letting the other man pour a thimbleful of the golden liquid into his coffee. When he sipped at it, the heat of the drink along with the burn of the whiskey made his chest feel warm.

Reid slipped his shoes off and brought his feet up to sit cross-legged on the small sofa. The corner of Mick’s mouth lifted in a tiny smile as he remembered the last time he had seen Reid do that. It had been the day of the Ascension, before the yelling and panic, when it had been just the three of them drinking some strange fancy tea that Mick couldn’t be bothered to remember. Gabe had worn a dark grey button-down, one of his nicer ones, the type that fit him properly in all the right places. He had laughed so loudly that day, his blue eyes alight with mischief and happiness....

Mick froze his train of thought and aggressively took another few sips of the Irish coffee.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked. The sound of his own voice, thick and scratchy from crying, startled him. His face still burned and he was sure that his eyes had gone red. “I thought you’d be upstairs.”

“I’d know the sound of that bike anywhere,” Reid replied, “and not many people are out on a Friday night.”

Mick didn’t miss the pointed tone in his voice and touched a hand to his temple where the blood had long since dried, but the scratches were still exposed. Carly came back, holding a white box. She set it on the table before climbing up onto the seat next to him.

“It’s okay...you don’t need to...

“Michael.” He blinked in surprise at Reid, who had never called him by his full name before. “Let her take care of you. That’s going to get infected. His hands too, Carly,” he told the girl.  

Carly took the mug from Mick and set it down, taking his hands in hers. He watched her small face, touched with a childish roundness, but with no trace of a child’s innocence. She worked mechanically on his hands, pulling out tiny slivers of glass with tweezers and dabbing at the cuts with antiseptic. He winced whenever it burned and wondered faintly why he had not noticed at the pain before.

He lowered his eyes to his knees. He had been too wrapped up to even notice.

“You got caught in the meteor shower, I take it?” asked Reid. At Mick’s silent nod, he asked, “What the hell were you doing out there?”

Mick laughed bitterly. “I was getting pie and whipped cream,” he declared, his jaw tightening painfully. “It’s Gabe’s birthday.”

Reid cringed. “He couldn’t have taken that well.”

“No, that’s putting it lightly. He flipped out.” He let Carly wrap gauze around his palms. “I don’t think he even realized it.”

“What happened, Mick?” He glanced at Reid, who looked unnaturally solemn. The only lights that were on in the shop were the ones where they were sitting and they cast shadows over his face, making him look strangely old. “Did Gabe say something?” he asked.

Mick tilted his head to make it easier for Carly to rub antiseptic cream on his temple. His chest suddenly felt like a cage, but with nothing left inside to guard. Even in the company of two people whom he knew cared for him, he felt so alone.