Page 53 of You Weren't Meant to Be Human
Crane can almost hear Levi smiling in the stands. The son of a bitch could be looking directly at Birdie, showing her all his teeth in the dark, and she’d have no idea.
He wants to lose it but he doesn’t. Once they’re gone, Crane can lose it all he wants. Levi can drag him to the gas station and run the bathroom sink and shove his head underwater, shut him in with the hive until his meltdown is done, ignore him and walk away—whatever. It doesn’t matter. Crane doesn’t care. Aspen and Birdie and Luna will be safe.
Birdie is panting now, one of her usual tactics for trying to get enough oxygen into her blood, or maybe getting enough carbon dioxide out of her lungs.
“Babe?” she says as if her throat is constricted. “I think—”
Crane holds up the key to the townhouse.
“Okay,” Aspen says again, fixed on the key’s dull metal. “I think we’re in crisis mode. Am I right? You’re scared. Probably having trouble thinking straight. That’s all the adrenaline in your brain; makes it tough to figure out what to do. That’s okay. I get it.”
Aspen sounds like their fucking shrink. Who gives a shit about therapy-speak. There’s a gun in this room and it’s trained at their center mass.
It’s not enough to make them leave, is it. If they just leave, there’salways the chance they’ll come back, there’s always the chance Levi will deem it all a failure and swing down from the stands and do it himself. Cut out their livers and kidneys for Stagger, feed the rest to the hive, take their wedding bands as trophies, and put them on Crane’s nightstand.
Crane jabs the key.
“You’re giving it back,” Aspen says plainly, double-checking they understand.
To Crane’s surprise, it’s Birdie who snaps.
“What the fuck!” she says. Aspen flinches, but she ignores it. “No.No.Who’s making you do this? Where’s that piece of shit boyfriend. This is him. Isn’t it?”
“Birdie,” Aspen warns.
“No! He didn’t—youdidn’tbring us all the way out here for this.”
Another shift of the shotgun. Levi lifting it to the shoulder, just inches from looking down the sights.
“Birdie,” Aspen says again.
Birdie sucks in air, looking at her spouse. Crane watches them both do the mental math. The glance they share, that telepathic communication.
What are they debating in those heads of theirs? How much they love him versus the danger they’re just now realizing they might be in, what with the weight of Crane’spiece of shit boyfriendsuddenly bearing down on them? Reviewing every memory of abusive parents and siblings and spouses left behind, the risk they’d be exposing Luna to, lessons ofyou can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.Battling the queer urge to light yourself on fire to keep someone else warm, giving everything you have to save a member of your community because you know, youknownobody but you will ever help.
Aspen and Birdie don’t just need to leave. They need to hate him.
Birdie’s already showing her dainty little teeth.
Aspen steps forward and takes the key.
And there’s a moment when it looks like they’re readying themself to say something stern—not just as a friend or a fellow queer, but as a journalist. Moments away from laying out the facts and dragging someone over to their side by force.
Okay, so.
Levi taught Crane how to throw a good punch. For what it’s worth, Crane doesn’t do that. His feet aren’t positioned properly, his body is permanently off-balance, he doesn’t follow through the way he should. It’s sloppy and weak. Crane tells himself he did it on purpose, because he doesn’treallywant to hurt them, which is better than accepting that this is the best he can do now.
Aspen’s still not prepared for it, though. Whatever they lived through before, whatever shit they’ve hid, it didn’t teach them to take a hit.
Crane’s fist collides with their jaw and sends them reeling, thumping mutedly into Birdie, who barely manages to keep them upright.
Birdie’s watery eyes flash with rage.
And then she’s screaming, “Fuck you!”
He’s never seen her like this. He didn’t think she was capable of it.
“Fuck you, Crane!” Birdie says. “Fine! You want to do this to yourself so bad, go ahead—I’m not about to drag you kicking and screaming—” Aspen straightens up, puts a hand to their jaw, opens their mouth, and closes it experimentally to check that nothing’s been knocked out of place. “Kicking and screaming, when you’re just going to go back to him like youalways do.”
