Don't Whistle Past the Graveyard

Ch. Nineteen

I didn't eat very much. I couldn't. That little girl kept looking up at me, her mouth covered in her mother's blood.

When Shane asked me about it, I just made up some stupid excuse about how I was too tired to eat or whatever.

After we ate, Kyle said, "I'll take first watch. You two go ahead and clock out."

"Three hours," Shane said, and Kyle nodded before heading up the stairs. I assumed it was to get a better vantage point.

I stood, and Shane extended a hand. After I helped him up, he said, "I'd never tell anyone else this, but my ankle is killing me. I do not want to go up those stairs. I saw earlier that there was another bedroom off to the side there."

Shane snaked an arm around my waist, his hips pressing into my lower stomach. Whispering into my ear he said, "Would it just be playing doctor if you're actually a doctor?"

I shivered when he bit at my earlobe, tongue playing with the earrings I still had in. My heart was too slow and I felt as I pulled the trigger on that little girl again. The phantom sensation made me shudder again.

Suddenly I wanted nothing more than to just not think for as long as I could manage, and Shane was offering me a way to do that.

Tugging at his belt loops, I pulled him with me down the short hall. With a smile that felt stiff, I said, "Come on. Let me see if I can make you feel any better."

Shane shut the door behind him, and just stood looking at me for a moment where I was standing in front of the bed. Then he was right in front of me and he was pulling the still bloody hoodie over my head, kissing my neck.

I turned, pushing him gently onto the bed, tugging at his shirt, his dog tags jangling when I pulled it over his head. I climbed onto his lap, and Shane took off my tank top. His hands slid slowly up my waist and he looked up at me, a small smile playing around his lips. "I have faith in your abilities, Doc."

I rolled my eyes then gasped as he kissed up my chest, burying his hands in my hair when he finally got to my mouth.

Shane paused then and shifted before looking back up at me with a slightly sheepish grin. He laughed and said, "I'm gonna need help getting my boot off."

I blinked before a laugh gusted up and I rested my forehead against his shoulder. I traced his scars with a finger and laughed again.

The third laugh was beaten by a sob and suddenly I was clinging to Shane, crying into his shoulder. I felt him stiffen in shock, then his arms were around me, crushing me into his chest, almost too tightly for me to breathe.

Rocking me back and forth slightly, he said, "Sh, Raleigh. Sh. You're all right, baby. It's okay."

"She was just a little girl, Shane. She was just a little girl. Eight, maybe nine years old and she just... she, sh-she—" I broke down again, trying to muffle my sobs against his skin.

Shane was still rocking me back and forth, his hand rubbing my back. His callouses scratched pleasantly against my bare skin, and he kissed my temple.

"She was just a little girl." I sat back slightly and looked at him.

Shane wiped at my face, thumb brushing a little roughly at my cheekbone. I pressed into his hand and said, "In the house... in the, in the house I got the car from. She, sh-she... she was just there, Shane. Just there and she was... her mom, Shane. I couldn't. But I did. Because I had to."

Even I thought I barely made sense, but Shane seemed to understand anyway. He tilted his head before gently guiding mine back to his shoulder. The stubble on his cheek scratched against my neck and the warmth of his mouth was on my shoulder.

He just sat there and held on to me until my tears ran dry.

He didn't say he was sorry. He didn't ask if I was okay. He didn't say I'd done the right thing.

None of that stupid, well-meaning shit that doesn't actually mean anything.

When I finally stopped crying, he pulled me with him further up the bed and laid down. When I stayed sitting, Shane pushed himself up again. His shoulders rolled a little, and he said, "Raleigh."

His voice was low, rough. All he said was my name, but it made me shiver anyway. He meant nothing and everything, and I leaned over, kissing him.

Shane kissed me back, but grabbed my hands when they went to his belt. I pulled back, confused. Shane ran his tongue over his teeth before scrubbing a hand over his face. 

"I really am the stupidest son of a bitch left on the planet," he muttered, eyes drifting over my pale, exposed skin.

Shane grabbed my wrist and pulled me down, wrapping himself around me. He kissed my temple again and said, "Honey, I know it's hard. And there isn't thing one I can say that'll make it any better. Not in the least. But baby, she was already gone. You. Did. Not. Kill. Her." He said each word slowly and distinctly. "You understand me?"

When I didn't answer immediately, Shane rolled over so that he was right in my face, pinning me to the bed with his body. "You don't wanna hear it, because you think I'm wrong, but I'm gonna say it. That blood is not on your hands. I know what that feels like and, Raleigh, this is not that."

"How do you know that?" I whispered, tears sliding into my hair.

"Because you can cry. Because you can talk about it. Because you're feeling it and it's not breaking you." Shane rolled back off of me, but still kept me all wrapped up.

"I should have just left," I said, staring up at the ceiling.

"What?"

"I should have just left. She was in her room. She wasn't coming after me. It wasn't in self defense. I just couldn't leave well enough alone." My tears had stopped and I felt that switch try to flicker back to off.

I wanted it to. I wanted to go back to where it didn't tear me up on the inside any more.

Shane sighed. "It wouldn't have been right to leave her trapped like that."

Then he pressed his lips to my throat, just under my jaw  and stayed there. He moved his mouth away but I could still feel his breath as it played over my skin.

I turned his words over in my mind. The switch stayed on, but I didn't hurt so badly with Shane holding me together.

My eyelids suddenly felt heavy and I shifted a little closer to Shane, trying to get comfortable. It was still a little warm and my skin stuck to his but that seemed to be what I needed.

He was warm. So he was alive.

We both were.

My arm went back so that my hand rested on his leg and I heard him mutter, "Stupidest son of a bitch left."

I felt kind of bad that my little meltdown had occurred when we were finally alone, but thought that at least it hadn't happened when we were in trouble. The last thing I wanted to happen would be for me to freeze up, putting the others in danger.

Closing my eyes, I entertained some thoughts about how I could make it up to him.

I eventually felt myself getting dragged down by sleep, and my heart slowed down again.

Shane moved a little restlessly, though his steady breathing told me he was asleep, and I remembered about his ankle. I'd meant to take a look at it. At some point.

I decided to just leave it in the boot for tonight. The laces would give it a little more support and might let him sleep without waking up every time he moved his foot.

I'd look at it in the morning, because there would be another morning.

So far, there always has been.