[crow]

Her mouth was dry, and it tasted disgusting. She blamed the blood, which had dried and rotted on her tongue. There was still a faint metallic tang, though otherwise the taste had been transformed entirely. Even blood, nauseating though it was, tasted better than this.

The fact that her first thought after that was, 'how did vampires cope with this?' was proof enough that she wasn't in her right mind. It hurt to breathe and it hurt to think. She opened her eyes and immediately shut them again upon the discovery that light made the headache worse.

[crow]

At least she remembered where she was though. Somewhere along the way, while she had been cataloguing all her complaints, it occurred to her that she must have gotten the pills from somewhere. Funny that that was what made her think of Dave--- probably not so much funny ha-ha as funny concerning. Adults would probably find it concerning anyway. The school staff certainly would.

... Which reminded her of just why she was in this situation in the first place: Johnny and his lot. Damn it. They waste their time shitting on me when they could be sending him to the principal for his invigorating lectures. Yeesh. If she wasn't in such bad shape, she would probably be more incensed about the whole thing, but pain ruled over her body with an iron fist. Several of them, even.

[crow]

“Oh, Charlie, you're awake, aren't you?” That was Elliot's voice speaking; no way Dave's would be that high. No, wait, that wasn't right either. Elliot didn't sound like that, which meant, unless Dave's dogs had somehow acquired human voices overnight, it must have been Cammie by process of elimination. Charlie cracked one eye open, ever so slowly, trying to avoid making her headache any worse. It was indeed Cammie peering back at her, smiling beatifically. She was crouched in front of where Charlie was lying on the couch, arms crossed around her knees, her hair tied up in a jaunty little ponytail. She looked entirely too bright for the morning.

[crow]

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Her voice came out like this horrible croak, which surprised her, but it honestly shouldn't have. What, was she going to sound like goddamn Giselle after a night like last night? She hoped nobody expected her to burst into song. She wasn't a good singer at the best of times, but now her efforts could probably wilt flowers, if her breath didn't do that first.

Speaking of singing--- her mind went back to that busker boy. That was another mistake, since the more she remembered, the more she wished she hadn't.

[crow]

There was too much to think about, too much to confuse and befuddle her. He knew, and he was--- she knew what she had seen him do. She knew what he had asked her to do too, and she fervently hoped he wouldn't find her again.

But that was neither here nor now, and Cammie reminded her of that by piping up. “I came to see you, silly! Dave called me this morning and said you got...” She cleared her throat, then said in a much deeper voice, “... fucked to all hell. Those were his words exactly.”

[crow]

She wore a solemn expression with her chin tucked in as she did her Dave impression, and Charlie laughed before she remembered her sides. By then, it was too late. The pain shot through her sides like someone had taken a hot poker and shoved it into her ribs. Even Cammie winced in sympathy.

“That's not an impression of me you were doing, was it?” Dave walked into Charlie's field of vision, bearing more plates of food. She sat up as he set them down, eager to see what was for breakfast. She might not have been hungry last night, but now she was starving.

[crow]

Nevermind that every movement was painful, her gut was about to gnaw its way out her middle if she didn't eat something soon. That was, she hoped, a sign that she was healing. It was better than having no appetite at all and having to force herself to eat.

Cammie grabbed one of the plates from him and flashed him a cheeky grin. “Wouldn't dream of it!” she said jauntily, popping a cherry into her mouth. Breakfast, as it turned out, was waffles. Cammie's plate was piled high with whipped cream, decorated here and there with pieces of fruit. Elliot followed after Dave, and Charlie could see that his plate was swimming in syrup. She looked at the two of them with undisguised incredulity, mixed with disgust.

[crow]

“How do you two stomach that crap?” she asked. Elliot and Cammie exchanged a look, and they both grinned back at her until she rolled her eyes at them. She was never going to understand their sweet tooth, and she had just about resigned herself to it.

Still, waffles were pretty boring plain. She drizzled some syrup over hers, but not much, making up for it with fruit. Dave ate his with peanut butter spread onto it. The two of them cut their portions in half and swapped, while Elliot and Cammie jealously guarded their own.

[crow]

For a while, they remained absorbed with their food, none of them speaking. The only sound that could be heard was the clinking of cutlery on plates. Dave didn't even bother with that, eating with his hands. Elliot tried to do the same, but fortunately Charlie admonished him back to using his fork before any real harm was done. The last thing anyone needed was a sticky little seven-year-old, even if Elliot was well-behaved.

Cammie was the first to finish, and she leaned back with a big satisfied sigh. “That was great! I didn't know you could make waffles, Dave.”

[crow]

“I can't. These are from the freezer,” he said around a mouth of his own breakfast. Charlie had to suppress a chuckle at that.

“Ah yes, Dave, the supreme chef of freezer food. That was what we had last night too, wasn't it?” At least talking was easy. She was finding that eating was a bit of a challenge. Her face had swelled up in the night, and there were cuts in her mouth from where she'd been punched. She had to eat in small bites, which went against her habit of eating quickly, and the two needs were hard to reconcile.

[crow]

Elliot had no such troubles. He was always a prim eater, and anyway his face wasn't messed up. Not that Charlie was going to complain about that; she'd take a much worse beating before she let anyone touch her little brother. “I liked the dumplings yesterday,” he said brightly. “Where did you buy those, Dave? I'd like to buy some too.”

“I'll give you one to take home,” Dave said magnanimously. Then Cammie caught sight of the assorted movies Dave had taken out the night before, including a few titles that she hadn't known about. The conversation veered off into her grilling him about them, which left Charlie and Elliot to their food. It was just as well; between her injury and his habits, they were the two slowest eaters at the table today.

[crow]

Unfortunately, their happy little breakfast session could only last so long. All too soon, it was over, and Charlie was faced with the unhappy prospect of bidding everyone goodbye and going home. “Thanks,” she said to Dave, “y'know, for bailing me out.” Elliot was talking with Cammie just outside the door, and out of earshot as long as she kept her voice low. Dave moved in to clap her on the shoulder, veering off at the last minute as he remembered her injuries. He played it off as a handshake instead, which she took.

“Any time,” he said. There were all kinds of things he didn't say, but she knew what he meant. They had each other's backs no matter what happened, and Cammie did too, and Rupert for that matter.

[crow]

She grinned at him, even though she had to grin carefully or else it hurt too much to be worth the trouble. “I'll see you at work next week,” she said, as if she was really going to make it. It wasn't out of the question, and she might force herself to go even if she didn't feel up to it, since she always needed the money. She wasn't at all sure that she would be able to go though.

He didn't question it, just sent her off with a promise to take care of herself. That was as close as he could bring himself to nagging, and Charlie was perfectly happy with that arrangement.

[crow]

The walk home was uneventful, aside from the pain. Well, pain wasn't really an 'event' so much as it was a state of being for her right now. She was lucky that she was able to walk at all, since she didn't think she could afford being beaten so badly that she lost her main mode of transportation. Plus this way she could always downplay her injuries, since as long as she could still do what she usually did, nobody could tell how much pain she was actually in.

Elliot was quiet the whole way home, and Charlie didn't know if it was because he was sad or anxious or if he was just lost in thought. Normally she would have tried to start a conversation and see if she could find out, but she had to concentrate on walking, and not wincing. Besides, if he really needed or wanted her to know, he'd tell her. It wasn't as if they didn't trust each other.

[crow]

It would almost have been pleasant if it weren't for the fact that she'd been beat up the night before. Charlie was a walking type, and the silence was a companionable one. Or maybe it was just that she was dreading the moment when they finally got home, and what would be waiting for her there. Dealing with her folks was a chore on the best of days, and in her current state she was hardly in the mood to do that. She approached the door with a weary expression, part of her mind still scrambling to see if she could somehow get out of this. Could she delay the inevitable any more than she had already done? The short answer was yes, she could; but the long version was that it would make things worse further down the line.