"She's dead."
"It wasn't your fault."
"But she's dead."
"Greeny, she made her choice. She chose to protect you. You can't blame yourself for this. Any of it."
"Then why does it feel like I killed her?"
The room slowly sank into shadows. Greeny lay on the bed for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling. His conversation with Sky played over and over in his brain. How could Leah be dead? It didn't seem real. It was like he could blink and she would be there with her typical wry smirk and over-bubbling enthusiasm.
Why didn't I protect her? I had the chance. I should have used my powers. Why didn't I?
He'd been berating himself like this on repeat. He knew he couldn't have done anything. He'd barely had time to react when Morto had struck. There was no way he could have moved her out of the way, physically or mentally. She knew it. She chose to jump in front of him. He would have just been in the way, but it still felt like he should have done...something. Anything. That he could only stand there and watch was the most excruciating part of the whole thing.
He raised a hand half-heartedly and aimed his mind at an empty cup, trying to make it move. He stared firmly at it. Waited. Nothing happened. Useless. He groaned and dropped his arm, flopping onto his back and removing his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly.
There was a soft knock on the door. Greeny put his lenses back on but did not move, pretending to be asleep. "Pssst." Red stuck his head through the door, wiping a mop of light brown hair out of his face. "May I come in?"
Greeny waved him in, not bothering to turn over.
Red didn't seem bothered by this and silently slid into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. "We have been given your protection detail. We're to escort you to the resistance base later this week."
Greeny sighed.
"Are you almost finished sulking yet? It's been two days. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You know, it's not going to look good for us if you kill yourself with starvation." Red was staying incredibly calm. "You're not going to help anyone by staying locked up in here. Miles is fixing breakfast. Why don't you come out and get something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry."
Red grunted. "Yeah, that's not possible. You're still human. You still have to eat. Come on. Just for a couple of minutes." He started toward the bed and Greeny did his best to brace himself in case he was dragged forcibly from the mattress. "Her death was not your fault. If she were here, you know she would tell you the same thing. Look." He took a seat at the end of the bed and sighed, as though struggling to be sensitive and firm at the same time. "I wasn't there when it happened, so I can't say for certain what went down, but I know it wasn't your fault."
"But--"
"Did you electrocute her?"
"Well...no, but..."
"Did you push her in front of you?"
"No."
"So how do you say you killed her?"
Greeny stared, open-mouthed. "I--"
"Stop. Just...stop." Red held up a hand to cut off his protest. "Now, I went back through the security footage of that day. I saw what happened. There was no way you could have done anything. Had you intervened, there is a good chance you'd be dead as well."
"But--"
"Oh for Griffion's sake! Do I have to spell it out? It. Wasn't. Your. Fault. Leah wouldn't have wanted you to blame yourself. She'd have wanted you to stay safe. She cared for you. A lot. Believe me, I know. Now, come on." He leaned over to slap Greeny on the back. "No use wasting away up here. Come eat." He stood up. "I'll have Miles fix up some bacon." With that, he exited, closing the door quietly behind him.
Greeny lay there for another minute, staring absently at the ceiling. And then, with a groan, he rolled himself out of bed and went to take a shower. He emerged from his room twenty minutes later, running a towel through his soggy hair and tucking in his shirt. He ditched the towel two doors down and continued to the kitchen, following the smell of fresh eggs and slightly burning toast. He found the teens spread throughout the room. Red and Blue were conversing in the corner, Miles was cooking behind what appeared to be a bar table, and Pinky was sitting in the dining room, flicking through TV channels as though they were going out of style. He suspected she was checking the news to make sure none of them had been spotted. He caught sight of a couple of fly-bys of Southpoint, but very little detail on the actual extent of the damage.
"Morning," Miles greeted as Greeny slid onto one of the barstools and rested his head on a hand. "Good to see you up and about, Bush. What can I get you?"
Greeny eyed the drink options for a moment before responding. "Chocolate milk, please. Shaken, not stirred." He was too tired to hear what he'd said, but that didn't stop the ghost of a smile from spreading across Miles' lips as the blond turned and went back to work.
"Going to do anything exciting this morning?" Red questioned as he sat down next to him with a glass of lemonade and a plate piled high with bacon and sausage. He gestured for Greeny to help himself and the teen did so, taking a piece of bacon and munching it quietly as he shrugged and waited for Red to continue. "You know, Pinky's going to do some training in the gym later on. Maybe you could join her?"
Greeny shot a glance toward the girl as he took a sip of his milk. "Yeah, that's probably not such a good idea. I think she hates me."
"Don't take it personally. She hates everyone."
"Brilliant." Greeny downed his glass in a single gulp. "Wish me luck then." He stood up and started toward the sofa.
"Don't die!" came Red's call behind him. Greeny took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, unsure whether he was trying to smooth it down or just release his stress. He exhaled loudly as he came around the couch to stand before her. She started, alerting him that she was aware of his presence, but she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the television, flicking a few more channels.
"Um...hello." Greeny felt his voice squawk.
She sighed deeply and a pained expression crossed her face as she twisted to look up at him. "What do you want?"
Greeny cringed. His brain screamed at him to back away and he felt his legs shaking as they fought to obey. He forced himself to stay put, however, and he grasped the edge of the couch to steady himself. "Red...said that I should maybe...train with you?" It came out sounding more like a question than a statement.
Pinky dropped the remote back onto the couch and leaned back against the pillows with a huff. "And why would I do that for you?"
"Oh...well...um..."
"Because he needs to learn to defend himself." Blue's voice near Greeny's ear caused him to jump, "and you're the best fighter out of all of us."
Pinky's eyes narrowed as she glanced between Blue and Greeny and back again. "Oh?" she said testily.
Blue sighed, probably very accustomed to her stubbornness. "Please do it, Pinky. I'd do it myself, but--"
"Yeah, yeah," Pinky waved him off as she stood. Greeny instinctively cringed as he realized for the first time that she was taller than him. Three or four inches at least. "I know. I'm the best." She crossed her arms and waited impatiently.
"So, you'll do it?"
She sighed and unfolded her arms to throw her hands in the air. "Fine." She started past them, glaring at Greeny as she went. "I'll get my things. Gym. Two minutes." And then she was gone.
Silence filled the room. Greeny felt all eyes pass from him to Pinky's retreating back and then to him again. Red said nothing, but Miles snorted as he settled down with a platter of food for himself.
Greeny groaned, giving Blue a wounded look as he hurried out the door after Pinky.
He headed down the hallway and turned left at the end. He reached the gym moments later and quietly opened the door, slipping inside noiselessly. He closed the gates behind him, blinking furiously in the dimly lit room, trying to gather his bearings. He recognized bleachers on the left half of the room. The right half was a training mat. Light seeped in through windows near the ceiling, casting a silver glow upon the entire floor.
The door slammed shut behind him. He jumped, knowing Pinky was standing there. There was a jab between his shoulder blades and he tensed immediately. "First lesson, never leave an opening for someone to sneak up behind you."
It was a sword. It had to be a sword. He could feel the blunt end against his skin. Though he knew Pinky wasn't going to kill him (hopefully), he still felt the sweat forming on his brow and his heart rate increase as it was twisted against his spine. His mind shut down and he couldn't think. He twisted on his heel and raised a hand to knock the blade away, only to find it at his neck at an instant. Green eyes burned fire and the scowl only grew deeper. Greeny swallowed back the lump in his throat and held her gaze firmly.
"Two. Never assume you have the advantage," Pinky hissed. With that, she lowered the sword and sheathed it back onto her belt. Without another word, she turned away from him and backflipped onto the mat, landing in a graceful position. She twisted to face him with a showboating and sickening smile. "So, let's start at the beginning," she decided, gesturing for him to come stand next to her. "Defensive techniques are a bit lacking," she added under her breath. Greeny's sensitive ears caught it and he frowned as he stepped onto the mat, tensing as it morphed under his shoes. "Along with everything else."
Greeny exhaled. "Okay," he said, pretending not to hear her. "So, now what?" He adjusted his glasses and stood uncomfortably beside her, wary of any more tricks.
"Now," Pinky answered, stepping back so she was facing him. "Hit me."
Greeny blinked, sure he'd misheard. "Excuse me?"
Pinky rolled her eyes. "What, are you as dense as you look? Hit me. Come on. As hard as you can."
"Oh," Greeny faltered. "But...I can't..." He almost said 'hit a girl', but he stopped himself in the nick of time.
"No?" Pinky raised an eyebrow. "Too bad." Before he could think or react, she'd already sprung into action, lashing out with a strike. It jabbed him painfully in the chest and he fell hard onto his back. He struggled to stand up, but she was faster, taking out one of her knives and butted the handle repeatedly into his back. He cried out and instinctively dropped back to the mat, protecting his head and neck with his arms. "You're weak," Pinky spat as she proceeded to kick him roughly in the side. Not hard enough to do damage, but enough to send tremors through his body with every blow. "Pathetic. You don't follow commands. You can't fight. Your powers are virtually useless. What use are you to anyone?"
"P-please," Greeny spluttered, squeezing his eyes shut and curling in tighter on himself. "S-stop."
"Stop?" Pinky barked. "You think Morto's going to listen to your hopeless pleas? He doesn't care! To him, you're nothing more than a pawn for the resistance. He'll kill you without the tiniest shred of remorse!" She kicked him in the back once more before sighing and backing away, twirling her blade delicately in her fingers. "Stand up," she snapped.
When he didn't react fast enough, she grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and yanked him, yelping and kicking, to his feet. "Come on! Come on!" she growled impatiently, letting go of him and backing into a defensive stance, hands raised for cover. Greeny stumbled, struggling to find his balance, and unleashed a wide hook punch toward her head. This was a mistake. She swiftly ducked to the side, seized his wrist, twisted it hard enough for him to cry out, and then dumped him unceremoniously onto the mat. "Your reflexes need to be quicker. A child could hit harder than you. A child! Were you the one protecting your girlfriend?? No wonder she died! You couldn't even protect a fly!"
Fury flashed through his brain and he pushed himself up into an awkward standing position. He could feel his legs swaying, but he was too angry at her words to care. He screamed and punched again. He was reckless. He didn't care anymore. Leah's death hadn't been his fault! I tried to save her! I tried!
Pinky sidestepped and positioned her hands around his elbow, pressing hard enough against his bone that he yelped and tried to yank away. And this time, she let him. He fell back, cradling it, as she lectured once more. "Had I been Morto, I would have just broken your arm," she informed him. "And unless you want a matching kneecap, I suggest you figure out a way to overpower me."
"How do I--" Greeny began, only to be interrupted as Pinky struck out with a sidekick, crumpling his legs underneath him so he face-planted the ground.
"Too slow," she sang. "Faster." She hauled him up and he adjusted his glasses, wheezing.
His eyes fell on a chair across the room. He raised a hand, trying to summon it over to smash into the back of Pinky's head, but she cut him off with a powerful blow to his solar plexus. He stumbled backward, heaving. "You're dead," she announced as he flopped down on the mat, struggling to inhale, feeling like his lungs had been crushed.
Pinky walked by him, tucking her knife away and wiping off her hands with a towel. "You're nowhere near ready. And until you figure out how to control your emotions, there's nothing I can teach you. Come find me when you think you're ready to be serious." With that, she walked out and slammed the door behind her.
Greeny flung himself back against the mat, stared at the ceiling, and groaned.
He felt the tears coming, hot and fast, and he closed his eyes, trying to force them back. The weight of loss combined with the physical pain was just too much and he rolled over, starting to sob uncontrollably. Why hadn't he protected her? After all they'd done together, after promising he'd protect her no matter what. He failed her. And that was what hurt the most.
"Hi, there!"
He looked up from his book, startled, as a dark shadow covered the words. He scowled at the perpetrator, a young girl about his age. Short blond hair, blue eyes, radiant smile, he noted. He recalled someone calling her Leah. He guessed that was her name. But what was she doing there? And why was she talking to him?
"Um...hello?"
The way she smiled, it made him a bit uneasy. It felt like she was searching for something just out of her reach and he somehow held the key to it. He intentionally avoided her gaze and squinted at the pages of his book, hoping she'd take a hint and leave him be.
"What are you reading?"
Greeny sighed. "The Phantom of the Opera," he responded shortly. He felt his heart rate increase and his fight-or-flight response kick in. All he wanted was to get away as fast as he could, but something held him there and refused to let him go.
"But, you're in first grade," she frowned, looking confused. "Can...can you actually read that?"
He nodded, peering at her over the tops of his lenses. Why wasn't she laughing at him like everyone else? Why wasn't she calling him a "dork" or a "nerd"? And after almost seven years of being the "freak", it was a bit unnerving. Perhaps she was just biding her time, waiting for the right moment to make an insult, waiting to lower his guard and strike when he least expected.
The last thing he'd expected was for her to sit down next to him and folded her hands patiently. "My name's Leah. What's yours?"
He automatically shifted away from her. "G-green Bush." He closed his eyes, ready for the last straw, for the silence to break, and for her to realize that he wasn't anyone worth being around unless she wanted pain and misery. Because that was all he was good for.
"Green Bush, huh? I bet your friends call you Greeny, don't they?"
The silence that followed was heart-wrenching. The smile slowly faded from Leah's face as she seemed to realize something. "Oh." She scooted closer to him and he found himself unable to slide away as she gently placed her hand upon his. He looked at her fearfully, but there was nothing but sadness and pity in her gaze. "You don't...have many friends...do you?"
He shook his head slowly, feeling ashamed. But she didn't seem angry. Instead, she scooped up his hand and held it firmly. "I'd like to change that," she said. "If you'd let me, I'd like to be your friend."
"You...you do? You're...you're not...tricking me?"
"No," Leah said. "I want to be your friend."
He beamed and slowly moved toward her, holding out his book so she could read it too. She laughed, pushing it back toward him. When he looked confused, she only laughed harder. "I can't read that," she explained.
"Oh." He looked down at his shoes, embarrassed.
"Tell you what, why don't you read it to me?"
He stared, shocked. "A-are you s-sure? I s-stammer."
"Me too," she confessed. "It'll be okay. Try it."
"O-okay."
So, he did. He read it aloud, and he was quickly lost in the complexity of the sentences. Occasionally, he'd stop and explain the meaning of a word to her, but for the most part, she kept up, nodding and grunting attentively. Not that it mattered to him all that much. He was just grateful someone wasn't laughing to his face or running away screaming.
Slowly, Leah's head began to droop, and shortly after, he found her sound asleep, head resting against his shoulder. He paused his reading, having just reached the part about the Phantom taking the girl to his underground lair, and looked down at the female sound asleep on his shoulder. He felt a lot like that phantom, afraid to show his real self for fear of rejection or ridicule. But there was something different about him when he was around this girl. She was different. She was his angel. She was special. She was someone worth liking.
"I'll protect you," he whispered to her unconscious form as he gently put the book down and leaned his head against the tree. "No matter what. I promise."