Page 15 of Avenged

“Jesus! Wait for what? For another month when I have to come get you at two in the morning?” His voice was deep with anger and concern. Emotions I couldn’t understand coming from a virtual stranger. So what if we’d lived under the same roof for a couple months? We’d hardly had a complete conversation in all that time. That was on me. I’d stayed as far away from him as I could because of my reaction to him. Because I wouldn’t allow myself to go down that route again.

“I didn’t ask you to come get me,” I bristled.

“You’re right. You didn’t. You wouldn’t. But I’m sure as hell glad Violet did. You can’t live like this. Go see the specialist,” he said, a growl in his voice.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’ve handled my body on my own without a male behemoth dictating my ways for near on twenty-four years, thank you very much. I don’t need or want your opinion.”

I put my arms around my body, wanting to just rest again. The pain medicine was making me tired. More than that, though, as my body relaxed out of the tight wad of pain it had been in for two days, it left me bone weary. It always did.

“Is this about the money again?” he asked.

“It really isn’t your concern,” I repeated in a tone which usually scared away the most persistent of people. It was a cold, emotionless tone. A tone I’d perfected long ago when dealing with Dad. I never let him know how I really felt. I never let him goad me into snipping back at him, because that was when the worst happened.

Travis looked down into my face, and I tried not to flinch at the expression there. Disbelief. Hurt. Frustration. He’d helped us, and instead of being grateful, I was being a bitch. I was pulling on my best Scar-Jo impression, but I didn’t have a choice. It was either that or let my shield go and be the person I refused to be. The crying, sobbing, whining person who needed someone else to save her. That wasn’t going to happen. Black Widow would never cry herself to sleep in a man’s arms.

“Make the appointment. I’ll pay for it,” he said.

That almost did me in. It almost cracked my armor. Even after my bitchiness, he was still trying to help. Trying to be the superhero in my tiny world that didn’t want or deserve it. My eyes filled, and I turned away.

“I’m going to bed. If you’re staying for breakfast, will you let Violet know I don’t want any?” I started up the stairs.

“Jersey,” Travis called after me. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. I refused to let anyone see me cry over this. I could hear the snickering voices in my head, roaring at me that I was alive, that I was here when others weren’t. When I didn’t stop, he just said quietly, “We’ll figure something out. Make the damn appointment.”

I didn’t respond, and I felt his eyes on me all the way up the stairs until he couldn’t see me anymore. But he didn’t follow me. For that, I was grateful.

I made it to my room, threw my bag down, and went into the bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the water run until it was so hot I could barely stand it before stepping into the steady stream. There, in the silence, I let the words from the doctor, and Violet, and Travis all wash over me. I played videos in my head of what it would be like to have a baby I held in my arms while it played with my fingers. Played like Violet had when she’d first been born and I’d held her when I was eight years old with Mom hovering nearby in case I dropped her. But I hadn’t. Not then. I’d only dropped her one time in all our years together, and that had been when she was ten, and I hadn’t even known she could fall.

In truth, the picture of me holding a baby didn’t feel like me at all. The only picture that felt real was the one with me at Violet’s side, making sure she found her happily ever after in whatever form that ended up being. I felt the knot in my chest loosen at that thought. Of Violet happily saving the world with her scientific experiments by day and going home to a family by night. A family I got to visit and spoil and hug. I was happy to forever be Julia Pennyworth to Violet’s Batwoman. If Violet was happy, that was the only thing that mattered.

Truck

IF I TOLD YOU

“So I’ll say

What I don’t want to,

And I’ll just pray

You want what I do.”

Performed by Darius Rucker

Written by McAnnally / Ross

When I walked into the house, Dawson was in my chair with the video controller in his hand again. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. I wanted to rip it from him and throw it through a window after spending the last six hours with Jersey and Violet. I loved my brother, but after everything I’d witnessed today, he looked like a privileged asshole who was throwing a tantrum because he hadn’t gotten his way. Like an asshole who’d screwed up and was having trouble taking responsibility for it.

I walked over to the gaming box and hit the power button.

“What the fuck?” Dawson said, sitting up in the chair.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” I said, turning back to him. “You going to sit here, sulking and playing video games for the next two years? Or are you going to do something with your life?”

He threw the controller on the coffee table and stood up. “You think you know everything about my life, but you really don’t know shit.”

“I know you fucked up and that you’re lucky as hell your dad is sheriff and that you aren’t in jail instead of here with me. I would think getting a second chance would be motivating you to do something positive with it.”

“The accident wasn’t my fault,” he snarled, fingers curled into fists.

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