Skye
The pillows are so comfortable I can just blend right in to them, content with the heat of Jamie's half naked form on my side. But a phone absolutely had to go of ruining my bliss. Blasted fucking phone. I feel the bed shift as Jamie gets up to answer whoever is calling at this ungodly hour. I turn around groaning into my pillow.
"Hey mom," I hear Jamie say in a hushed voice, starting towards the door leaving me to sleep in peace.
Faint voices emanates from Jamie's phone. I am unable to make them out.
"Mom, what's wrong? Has something happened?" Jamie says no longer bothering to lower his voice. He has stopped dead in his tracks on the way to the door, I know because the floor no longer squeaks under the soles of his feet.
Silence
"What?" Jamie croaks.
Silence
"Where is he?" Jamie says, his voice sounds dispatched as if he is somewhere else. I sit up in the bed. He is frozen on the spot, his back to mine.
Silence
"Are you with him?" Jamie asks, pain tainting his voice. Worry flares in my stomach.
Silence
"What happened?"
Next followed more silence, Jamie's shoulders sagged. His body seeming frozon.
"Mom, I am coming...No, mom, listen.... I don't care! I am coming.... Shrew my career! They'll do without me for a couple of days!... Yes.... My brother's in a coma and you are worried about my career? Listen to yourself!... yes, of course I am right!.... Yes, have a good flight. Keep me posted if anything changes.. I love you too.. Bye." He hangs up.
I get out of bed, sensing the dread hanging in the room. Jamie is standing still, looking out into nothingness as I approach him, slowly gliding my hand from his elbow to his shoulder. We're still almost naked, only dressed in black tightfitting boxers and panties.
"Jamie?" I mumble as I walk around him, so I can see his face. One hand on his shoulder another on his jaw lifting his face, "Jamie? What's happened?" He doesn't answer as his eyes met mine, gut-wrenching sadness emanating from them. I had heard what he had said, 'My brother's in a coma'. But I'm not sure whether I really heard it or not, Sam couldn't be in a coma. He is Sam, naturally he is fine.
"J?" I mumble, pleading him to say something.
"My brother's in a coma," He states grimly in a low voice, filled with disbelief. Dread beats alive in my chest. I don't know what to answer, what could I answer without sounding like an uncaring douche? 'I'm sorry'? What exactly would I be sorry for? It's an odd thing to say when something bad happens, someone must not have been thinking back when they first started saying that.
"Where are they holding him?" I then ask.
"Copenhagen. He got hit by a car. Doctors say it's critical," his tone is monotone, as if showing feelings suddenly became risky business, which is probably exactly the case. I trail my hand from his jaw to his hand, holding it. I don't know what else to do.
"Is there - is there anything I can do?" I ask, neglecting the 'I'm sorry' norm, in these situations. I didn't help him anyway. I have never met Sam, since he rarely comes home to visit, according to Jamie. Sam goes to the academy of music in Denmark. It takes of most of his time. Or that's what Jamie told me.
"Do you know how to get of work for today? I need to get on plane." He confesses. Oh yeah.. We have work today, how bloody convenient.
"I don't,-" my answer is cut short by a high ringing of the front door.
"You expecting anyone?" Jamie asks, his voice is still lifeless.
"No, it must be for Evelyn or Jorge, what time is it?" I ask, looking past Jamie at the digital clock on the bedtime table.
"Early," Jamie so kindly informs me.
"It's 07.32," I correct him, we have late start at work today. So thankfully we still have an hour to get ready.
"SKYYYYYEEE!" a voice shouts through flat, "front door! It's for you! A man is here to speak to you!" I suddenly register the faint mumbles of an unfamiliar voice. Jorge had just shouted the message of this person's arrival from the other end of the apartment. I look up at Jamie.
"Get dressed, I'll help you with Jared," he nods and turn back to pick up his shirt from the floor. I do the same thing myself, just much quicker. Janking on a big black tee shirt - which I am pretty sure is one of Jamie, he must have left it before all the shit happened - and a pair of black sweats, before I go to answer the door.
"Skye!" Jorge shouts again, as I am about to turn the corner to the kitchen leading to the small hall.
"Coming!" I say and almost smash into Jorge chest. He quickly steadies and releases me.
"You took you're time," Jorge voice is half flooded with annoyance. I don't answer and he goes on without noticing, "he is out there," he point over his shoulder before hunching down to my ear, "he looks like a one of those Christian Gay-"
"Grey," I automatically correct him.
"Whatever, he just looks older though. Odd thing, he has the same hair as you. Curly and all red," He fluffs my disastrous hair as he says the last part.
I shake my head at him and push him towards the door I have just gone through, "Go get dressed," I tell the second person this morning. You should think I was their mother. And then I head towards the front door around the corner.
I go through the kitchen and soon find my way to the hall, where I am faced with a man I have never in my life seen before. Yet he seen slightly familiar. He has the same hair of red unruly locks as myself. His mouth his full and his eyes an intense green colour staring out at me from under thick dark red eyebrows. His face is stern and hard, like the business men so often portrayed in movies, but he isn't young, past forty at the least. The lines of his forehead and the crinkles of his eyes and mouth visible, despite his lack of facial expression. He is wearing a blue suit, even though it is barely eight in the morning, with shining black shoes and a silver watch on his right hand. He gives of a feel of authority, like he is used to getting his way.
"Hallo Ms. Delaney," he says in a British accent, stretching out his hand. I greet him shortly, shaking it. I hate being called Ms. Delaney, that was my mother's name, not mine. I am Skye. Though I could deal with Patrick calling me Delaney, it is the Misses which bug me.
"What is this about?" I ask. A smile plaster itself on his features, drawing up the lines of his face. I can feel his eyes on my, staring intensely on my face. As if he's inspecting it.
"I am sorry for dropping by like this, I just didn't know another way of going about it." He says quizzically. What am I arrested? Is he gonna kidnap me and make me work like a drug mule? I wouldn't be my first choice if I was him, but people are idiots.
"Can you please just tell me what this is about?" I repeat.
"I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself. My name is Cole Reed Marlowe," he put his hands behind his back standing up relaxed my straight as an arrow. I have a strange feeling of déjà vu as I stare into his face, like I have seen him before but then again I haven't.
"Okay," I say, starting to feel rather annoyed by this dolled up suit man. Couldn't he just get to the bloody point?
"Ehm," he choughs, "I am here because..." he stops again, averting his gaze to the ground. He let's out air between pressed lips slowly. No every day you see businessmen like this one practically step on their feet in anxiousness. I was the one who should be stepping on my feet... who the hell is this man...?
"I am here to tell you," he starts over, "that I'm... that I am your biological father."
The words don't even get the time to sink in.
"Skye, we need to go to set. I have to talk to Jared," Jamie says as he walks into the hallway, seemingly not having heard the words this man just had uttered.
"Aaah.." Is my reply.
"Here, take my card," the man - my father - says before pressing a small hard piece of paper into my palm, "call me or swing by my office when you've got the time." He smiles at me, a smile which I don't exactly appreciate seeing as he proceeds says, "Nice to meet you," before turning away and heading out the already open door. Leaving. Should have seen that one coming...
"Who was that?" Jamie asks, stopping to look at me. I must not look well since he does so, after all his brother is medically knocked out in some steel trap at a hospital, he shouldn't be worrying about anything but that. Yet he takes his time to stop and look at me.
"No one," I say lying to his face, "just some Jehovah's Witnesses," the real information could wait to another, less pressing time. My father had only just decided to show is stupid face after almost 23 years he could wait a couple more days, might do him some good.
"You sure about that? He didn't have a book with him or any pamphlets." Jamie questions.
"Now I didn't say he was very well prepared," I walk over and suddenly feel the need to grab Jamie arm, not tightly, just make sure he is still here. I go on my tiptoes and kiss his shaped lips for a second or two, lingering a little. His scent is filling my nostrils, making my head go fuzzy. My bed will smell like him for weeks, thank god. If he is going away it was almost the only thing reminding me of him. I suddenly feel grateful for the night we have just spent together. Grateful that maybe even with all the other pressing crap piling up around is, we might just be okay.
"Everything will be alright," I tell him quietly. He presses his lips to mine again, not answering, "Meet you back here in 15 minutes?" I ask, he nods, places another swift kiss on my lips and leaves to go pack.
I pace the small distance to my room in a trance, knowing I need to get properly dressed. It is not acceptable to go to work in sweats and your co-stars old tee shirt, for what I know. The trance lingers in my mind, counting up the face of my father. My newly returned father... What could he want? For the love of god, he had stayed away for 22 years! Couldn't he just have kept it that way?! I was perfectly content with the way things were. No parental pressure. No haunting family dinners. No obligations other than my work and my friends. My mom hadn't been a factor for years, I hadn't spoken to her since last July where aunt Marry had died and I had had to go to the funeral. I had never even met this proclaimed 'aunt Marry' woman. I had only gone because that's what you did when someone in your family die. It didn't matter that I had no idea who she was.
I was perfectly content with the fact that I had fled the house in the suburbs as soon as I had turned 18. Leaving for a better tomorrow in London, where I soon found Brad in just as dire a situation as myself. We had helped each other out and not after long Jane joined the picture. That was the way I liked it, just me and my friends. No one to control and contradict every decision I made. No one to put down my dreams and hopes. No one to cloud the day and make my life miserable No mother and especially no fucking father.
I decide that until Jamie is safely on a plane headed for Copenhagen, I will not think of the fact that I have just met my father. I will not.
A/N: sooooo yeah, Sam's is in a coma. And Skye met her strange father... But Skymie is okay for now! Everything else in their life is crap now, but Skymie lives! Now was it worth it?