Where does it hurt? Pt2

I sat still on the cold counter, waiting for Wally to ask the question hanging in the air.


"Umm... your cut… it's under your shirt…"


"Thanks Baywatch, I would have never guessed, what with the fact that I have a searing pain between my shoulders, and I can feel the blood turning my shirt into a wet towel."

"Shut up, I was just trying to help!"

"Help!? Is that what you call it? You want to truly help, Wall-man? Try not existing!"

"Impeccable comeback. You know if I wasn't here you'd have probably died from the blood loss."

"Well, I absolutely love your timing. Maybe now that you're a local hero Megan will stop throwing herself at Conner and give you the time of day!"

"HEY!!"
I froze.
  The misplaced yell coming from behind me scared the crap out of me. And the way he said it was the oddest thing about it. Like he wasn't bothered by my last remark, but more like a teacher trying to shut up the class.

"Do you want me to re-stitch your back, or do you want me to bring you to the hospital and explain to the doctors there how you tore their best silk sutures?" There was a thick frustration in his voice, and we both knew the answer to that question, even though, ultimately, I didn't say it.

"Wouldn't it be a better idea not to stitch up an open wound in the same place where food is prepared?" I said sarcastically.

"Why, Arty, do you have AIDS?"

"Not last I checked. Now that you mention it, my boyfriend doesn't believe in condoms…" I tried to say it with the conviction of Amy Adams, and it seemed to work. I slowly got down from the counter, turning to see a priceless look of shock painted on Wally's face. I couldn't help myself; I burst out laughing.

"I was just kidding, Wally! I'm a virgin. And stop calling me Arty."
"Well, that makes sense." He said nonchalantly.

"Why?" I just had to hear this.

"Any guy would have to be pretty drunk to screw around with you."
  
   I sighed and rolled my eyes. No, I didn't run out of things to say. And no, he didn't 'beat' me. I was just sick and tired of … all this. Of constantly fighting.
It used to be so normal, but lately…….. lately I think it's just a waste of time. I understand how some people hate each other and disagree on things. But he just always tries to make me angry. Like he just wants to yell back and forth.
It's just so…

"Hey, Artemis, its Wally, trying to send you a message from EARTH! Pay attention!"

I completely spaced out while he talked to me, which is not common at all. One of the principles I grew up by was always be aware of your surroundings. And here I am, standing in front of the only enemy I have on this team, completely oblivious to what he was doing. The equivalent of Superman giving Lex Luthor a kryptonite dagger and then turning his back on him.
Crap. I'm doing it again.

"Could you please repeat yourself?" I voiced, answering all the words he said, but I wasn't listening to.
I could tell that he was surprised by my politeness. He never seemed to be good at hiding his emotions.

What, we've been arguing with each other almost since the minute we met, so now you think I'm incapable of being nice?

"Umm… I need you to get a damp washcloth and a towel. Once you get those, just wait for me in the bathroom." He responded, still dumbfounded.
"You'd think that the fastest kid alive wouldn't have to ask others to wait for him" I said coyly, making my way out of the kitchen.


Unfortunately, I only took five steps over the kitchen threshold before I fell to the floor in a bout of pain, cursing loudly on the way down. It felt like my cut was furiously ripped open by a pro-wrestler and then set afire, gasoline and all. I have never felt so much pain in my life, apart from frostbite at ten. My body never reached the ground and, for the second time that day, I felt a pair of muscular arms wrapping around my legs and abdomen, taking them somewhere unknown to me.

"Never mind", he said sympathetically, "I'll get them myself. Just don't die while I'm gone, okay?"

"Oh, I will. Just to get on your nerves."
"Seriously." he whispered, a look of concern on his face. With that he was gone, leaving me alone on the frigid bathroom counter.

The five minutes in which he was gone gave me enough time to recollect my composure.

I wouldn't need to do that if he just put a shirt on…

But that didn't help, because then I started thinking about how good he looked without a shirt. Nothing but toned muscle. You could tell with his costume on, but it felt so real when he was just standing there, in his bare skin…

Focus, Artemis!

I diverted my attention to the spacious, almost monochrome bathroom. If an item wasn't some shade of blue, it was white. A countertop so long I could lay down and still have room to wiggle my toes. The pristine shower across the way with a misted door; I could just make out the small tiles, all in different types of blue. Baby blue, cerulean, cobalt, indigo; a plush navy rug that I wish I wasn't too screwed up to stand on.

  Even though it was five minutes on the clock, it felt like hours, and when he was back I had half a mind to ask what took him so long.

I examined the contents of his hands: a washcloth, towel, bulky first aid kit, one of my shirts, one of my bras.

Wait, WHAT!?!?

I clenched my teeth as if my anger would slip out of my mouth. "Baywatch, WHY do you have my bra?"

He struggled for an excuse, obviously not thinking of one on the way here. "It's just.. You have blood on you -- I thought you'd want to change…"

I was now livid. "You went into MY ROOM?"
"Well…"
He was cut off by my hand hitting him in the side of his head. Not hard, but certainly hard enough to get the point across.
"Just stitch me up before I say something I won't regret."
________________________________________________________________________

I wanted to tranq Arty. I really did.

She just wouldn't stay still!
  
  At first, I thought she was doing it on purpose.

"Arty, stop moving."

"Whatever."

  So I was at peace for a few minutes, slowly stitching her up and trying to keep the blood in my nose.
Why would I need to do that, you ask? Well…  Arty's cut started at C2 and continued for a few inches, ending around C7-C8. Not a problem, right?
  
   Arty's bra strap covered C4 and 5.
Which meant she was now leaning on the bathroom counter, covering her front with a towel while my hands were on her bare back…
Needless to say, I had my work cut out for me.

Especially since she wouldn't friggin' stay still! We had  been in the bathroom for twenty minutes and I wasn't even halfway done!

"Oh my gosh, STOP MOVING!"

"Stop yelling." she said quietly.
  I wanted to apologize. I could tell I hurt her feelings, but… if I gave her the satisfaction, I'd never live it down.

"Seriously though, is there anything that could keep you still? Something to drink? Bathroom break? Benadryl?"

She met my eyes in the mirror. Her face looked tired yet thoroughly pissed, like she wanted to kill me but was contemplating taking a nap first.
"You're such a drama queen."

"King. And you didn't answer my question."

"I'm pretty sure you're a queen." She said with a wide yawn. "My Ipod."

"What?"

"The question you asked just a second ago? I thought you would remember it, what with the big deal you made of it. Just get my Ipod." She then proceeded to sink her head and bend her right leg, slightly arching her back and making her unbearably sexy.
But I waited a little too long to leave, and she felt my hesitation.

"You're not just going to stand there, are you? If you want to look at me so badly you can take a picture. I wouldn't mind." she smirked  at her victory.
Just because she won doesn't mean I'd let her know that.

"Shut up!" I hollered, having already made my way to the training room. I quickly grabbed the Ipod and dock and sped back to the bathroom, wondering if she was okay by herself. Sure enough, she was still there, on the counter, her back completely bare…
I could enjoy this much more if there wasn't six inches of ripped tissue dampening the mood. But if it weren't for that, I probably wouldn't even be in this situation…

"Wally."
  I hated the fact that she knew I was spacing out; It was like putting a huge target on my back.
"Here." I said hurriedly, handing it to her as if it were burning my skin.

She tinkered with it for a while, then finished by plugging it into an outlet at her near left and letting a voiceless song fill the room.
At first, I didn't believe it. There was no way that stubborn, criticizing Artemis would listen to classical music. I was waiting for her to turn it off, saying it was just a joke, or waiting for a teenage pop artist to start singing and it turn into a sad excuse for music. But that didn't happen.

"Surprised?" she asked, breaking me from my reverie.
I didn't answer, wanting to focus on what I was doing. Not her. I shouldn't be focusing on her. Maybe Megan. Right? But…

"OW! Pay attention Baywatch!"
"I was paying attention!"

She met my eyes in the mirror again. This time her dark eyes conveyed a deeper anger, like she had decided to skip the nap and head straight for her bow.

I mumbled some unmentionables to myself and continued working; gently.

Even though the gentle background music was classical, it wasn't half-bad. I glanced at the lighted Ipod screen.
Loris Tjeknavorian.
I have never heard that name before in my life. But whoever he was, he had done a good job. Though Artemis wasn't moving and the soft music held her attention, I couldn't help but feel the thick and awkward silence that was quickly settling between us. I wanted to say something, and there has been something I've been meaning to ask since I found her.

"So, how long have you --"
"Nine years. Can you please shut up now? This is my favorite part."

I was left to my thought as she focused on the strong allegro of a solo violin. It just goes to show how well we know her. She's been dancing most of her life and we were none the wiser. But we're teammates; even if she wants to keep secrets we should know something as trivial as a hobby.

"Why do you care, Wally?"
"Hmm?"

"Why do you care about how long I've been dancing?"

So, much to the protest of my inner filter, I told her everything I just thought. Which was, in hindsight, a bad idea.

"I didn't know joining the team meant supplying you with my life story." she chided.

"It's not that it's---"

"Dancing isn't just some trivial hobby to me. So you can take the little information I give you and be satisfied." she said curtly, obviously holding a lot back.

With that the orchestra died with a bang. Just like our conversation. I finished about a half-hour later, ending this terribly awkward situation with the gauze I taped to her back.

"Leave." she stated.

"What?"

"I need to get dressed, Wall-man. I know you want to stay and watch, but I'm not that kind of girl." She was clearly getting better, her teasing jokes becoming more annoying by the second.

"Why the heck would I want to watch you get dressed!? Don't flatter yourself."

"I don't need to; your face is red."

"SHUT UP!"

"Fine, Wally, if you insist. I'll change in the shower so you can tend to my naked body if I fall unconscious."

I felt my face grow hotter. Artemis? Naked?

"Are you okay Baywatch? You look like you might have a fever." she said seriously, placing the back of her hand on my forehead. She then proceeded to burst out laughing, grabbing her clothes and closing the shower door behind her, the towel I gave her still gripped to her chest.

I must have looked like a tomato now. I couldn't stop thinking about how the towel had slipped a bit when she put her hand on my fore head…

________________________________________________________________________

  I knew Wally was watching as I stepped into the shower, so I gave him something to look at. I carelessly tossed the towel in the corner, and dropped my fresh shirt at my feet. Not wanting to put my bra on normally in order to make Wally squirm (and because it would probably hurt) I hooked it around my ankles, shimmying and sliding it until it was at my ribcage, covering what it needed to cover. Slowly, I reached around my back to place my bra strap over the thick gauze.
  
  After that, I heard him shuffling around in the open bathroom behind me, so I decide to continue the show. I quickly bent over to grab my shirt from the floor. I knew the door wasn't misted enough to conceal my black cotton shorts. Then to finish I slowly slipped into my shirt, making more of the fabric fall on my chest, making it about an inch shorter than normal.

I closed the shower stall behind me, turning to see Wally's muscular back. I tossed the towel on the counter. "I didn't expect you to wait for me Wall-man."  He tensed at the sound of my voice, then quickly relaxed, trying to hide it.

"Yeah, well, you seem to be having trouble walking, so…"

"I'm sure I can make it down the hall on my own."

"Artemis, you collapsed after two steps." The look of concern was growing on his face. It was creepy. I mean, he hates me. And now he's acting like a protective boyfriend just because I had a little fall?

Why did I just compare him to a protective boyfriend?

   I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose while my eyes were squeezed shut. "Wally…"
I then shivered, because I felt his unnaturally warm skin against mine. I was in his arms. Again. Well, it wasn't that bad. His forearm were firmly placed in the crook of my knee, knowing any higher and I would beat him up, despite my condition, and his other arm was tenderly supporting my back. Before I could even finish this thought I was in my room, my dilated pupils already accustomed to the dim lighting. Then the sun shone through the window, gingerly illuminating the room. I didn't even have to look at Wally to know where his attention was.

"Wow, your room is… wow."

And he was right. If you don't understand where this is going, well… let's just say I don't take interior design lightly. To be honest, I don't think I take anything lightly.

  In the middle of the room was a king sized bed of light green, with white accents mimicking branches and flower buds. Above the bed was an opaque white canopy, draping all the way to the floor. A sage nightstand with iron knobs stood by the bed loyally. Next to a window mostly concealed by trees was a pallid vanity, taking on both Victorian and modern tendencies.
A few feet to our right was a European style dresser, the crystal knobs glistening in the dark.

It could never be just a room to me, it was so beautiful. And to Wally, it was much more appalling. I bet he was still thinking about how this was MY room.

"What's wrong? Weren't you just in here?" I know that I did a really good job on my room, but I didn't expect him to be so surprised.

"It was dark… I wasn't paying attention…You did all this?" he breathed, finally looking at me.

"Yeah, so?" I said, leaning against the wall for support. I felt my eyelids grow heavy. I closed them, if only for a moment. The moment after that it felt as if my sense of touch was teasing me: tricking me into thinking Wally put his arms around me, picking me up, putting me in my bed. It wasn't until I opened my eyes and watched as he pulled the covers to my shoulders that I knew I wasn't being fooled.

"You look tired. You should go to sleep."

But I wasn't ready to comply. "No thanks." I said bitterly.

Instead of entertaining my newly terrible mood, he sat at the foot of the bed. This bothered me, because he was still in his pajamas. And he still hadn't put a shirt on.

He's in his pajamas; he should be in bed too.

With me…

I blinked the thought away, listening to his next words. "Where'd you get all the furniture?"

"Either I paid it with my hard-earned cash, I got it from a storage shed of stuff my parents don't use, or I stole it."

He started to laugh at the last part. I was secretly glad I made him happy, glad I was blessed enough to see his beautiful smiling face directed at me, for once since I've constantly fought and yelled and insulted him. I started laughing too.

Even though it wasn't a joke.

The giggles left as quickly as they came, and then we were just sitting there in silence,  the light quietly brushing our faces. Wally began to stand.


"Just call me if you need anything."


Then he began to leave. Not like he normally would though. He left like a civvie, much slower than he could have left, like he was waiting for something. For me. Like he was waiting for me to call him back so he could take me in his arms.

But he couldn't have been thinking that way. And if he was, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. It was a game. And I'll be damned if it wasn't played on my terms.


______________________________________________________________________

I had been gone for about fifteen minutes when I heard her call me.

I didn't turn the TV on; if she called I wouldn't hear her. So I just sat and read a book about chemistry. But I couldn't concentrate.

I left slowly. I didn't want to leave. To be terribly honest, I wanted to get in the bed with her, fall asleep next to her…

Pull yourself together, West!

I tried to force the thought of her out of my mind, thinking of things I'd much rather like to do than her…
Do her…
I squeezed my eyes closed, pushing away the unthinkable thought and focusing on other things.
Food. Snacks. Sweets. Ice Cream. Dutch Dark Chocolate Ice Cream. In the summer. With Arty.

DANG IT!

I repeated an old mantra, thinking it until I half-believed it.

I don't like Artemis, I don't like Artemis, I don't like Artemis, I don't like Artemis…

"Wally?" I heard her soft voice carry down the hall.
Then I was in her room, asking her what she wanted.

"Could you turn up the thermostat? It's really cold in here."

"I can't. Batman would kill me." And I truly believed that. Last time I messed with the thermostat as a joke. Make it a little too cold so the team could skip training and spend some time lounging on the beach. But it didn't exactly work out that way. The thermostat was in complete gibberish. Even I couldn't understand it. What I thought would make it colder, made it hotter. The team got to go on to the beach because it was so hot inside. And Batman was stuck with repairs. He must have sweat and ocean in that stuffy costume, and it doesn't seem like he'll forgive me anytime soon.

Snapping back to reality, I realized what Artemis was doing. She was pulling back the sheets, preparing to get out of bed. "Arty, you need to rest." I whispered, immediately at her side.

She answered by pulling me onto her bed and covering us both with her comforter. "You're really warm."

I could feel my face growing hot and my heart fighting to jump out of my chest. But it didn't last long.

She doesn't like you, she's just cold and desperate for a heat source…

"What, so I'm your personal heating pad?" I said, more blunt than I should've let on.

"No, Wally…" she contested, pulling me closer. I felt a smile stretch across my face.

"You're more like a hot water bottle."