Chapter Thirty
Renew
"No-Mammy-I-Gaaaaaaaahhh!" Melanie groaned as Mammy firmly pushed her back onto the the couch. Spencer laughed as he brought the glass of water to the nursemaid, who propped up Melanie to pour it down her throat. Melly snatched it from her and drank.
"For the last time, Mammy, I am fine. If you'll just let me off of the darn couch-"
"You isn't fine and you ain't gonna be fine until Mammy says you is. You is gonna rest 'til Mammy tells ya to get back to work. Understand?"
"Mammy, darling-"
"No. Lie down, Miss Melly. You don' know what's good for ya."
"Mammy-"
"Melanie Rene Wilkes!"
Melly stared challengingly at the old nursemaid.
"What is it about the use of one's middle name that makes the inner child quake with fear?" she mused aloud, settling back onto the thread bare couch.
Spencer smiled. It had been 32 hours, 49 minutes, and....around 7ish seconds since Melanie had fallen into Spencer's arms after coming from her hell. She had been laying on the couch ever since, only leaving when Mammy drew her bath or when she excused herself to the bathroom. She asked Mammy for a book, and again Mammy denied her, saying she needed to rest her head and eyes.
Spencer smiled. It had been 32 hours, 49 minutes, and....around 7ish seconds since Melanie had fallen into Spencer's arms after coming from her hell. She had been laying on the couch ever since, only leaving when Mammy drew her bath or when she excused herself to the bathroom. She asked Mammy for a book, and again Mammy denied her, saying she needed to rest her head and eyes.
"Books don't do no good 'cept make a girl dizzy."
Melanie snorted. "I don't know how in the world I became a feminist living in this house..." she sighed.
It was Mammy's turn to snort. "Feminists. Huh. Wantin' to work when all they had to do was sit around and look pretty. They was messin' in things they shouldn't've. No good... white trash..."
Melanie screamed into her pillow. Mammy slapped her with it.
Melly squealed and then laughed. After Mammy left, Melanie asked Reid for a embrace.
"You'll get me a book, won't you, Spencer?" she asked. Reid's chest shook with laughter, and Melanie pulled him tighter.
"Of course, what do you need?"
Need, he had said. Not want. Understands...
"Anything off the third self on my library, please. In my room."
He nodded, then surreptitiously slide up the stairs to fetch his best friend her desire.
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"I'm thrilled to hear how well you are doing, Melanie," the older man's voice was smoothed over with concern that Melanie knew was false.
"Miss Wilkes, if you don't mind."
"Oh, come now. We don't need to be formal, do we Melly?"
Melanie twitched in her seat, her wet hair clinging to the back of her head, eyes burning at Mayor Barly. Her father called her Melly. He shouldn't call her that. He should never call her that.
"Mayor-"
"Stop it, Melanie, we're friend's here."
Melanie wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something at him. She didn't care how weak the medicine made her or how heavy her eyes were with threatening tears. She wanted him out of her line of sight, out of her home, out of her life. Most of all, she wanted him out of Charlie's chair. When he first walked in, he walk toward her father's and Melanie took great pride in snatching her father's oak desk chair from the Mayor. She knew she would've screamed at him then. Melanie owned Ardely, yes. But so did Charlie. Melanie knew if she threw a fit, that Mother would make Charlie let him stay. Melanie wanted to cry, but all she could do was stare back at the Mayor and make sure her glare didn't lose it's power. He looked away. She smiled icily.
***
"I've never seen Melanie so...mean," JJ said to Spencer. They were both in the kitchen, helping Cal with the dishes. Cal snorted.
"Melanie is the sweetest thing now, but you should've seen her when she was young. She and Charles would wrestle in the yard, ever since they were young, like kittens. But they were mean to each other about it. Charles came in with a black eye, Melanie didn't even apologize. She was spoiled to the core, but she was also kind to everything as well. She wouldn't let you kill a spider. It always creeped me out how she wasn't afraid of 'em. She just take it in her hands and let it out the window. What did she call it? She always laughed when she...Arachnophilia! I'm not even sure it's a word..."
"No, Cal, it is," Melanie sighed, stalking in, taking a cup from the cupboard and filling it was water, slumping down in front of the stove.
"Arachno is Latin for spider and philia means love of."
"You used that word when you were three."
"And I've always been good at Latin." She smiled angrily, throwing back another glass of water as if she was living on it.
"And Spanish and French..."
"Latin was always the easiest though. I didn't have to look twice at it to remember it. Spanish took me a little longer...French was the hardest, but it wasn't hard at all. I just liked it."
"You took all those languages?" Spencer asked. Melly snorted.
"Latin I just picked up on through medical terminology and a few prefix books. Latin isn't hard at all...but it's so beautiful," she sighed. "My father loved it. I took Spanish in high school but I just learned French a few years ago. I wanted to take a trip..." her look got far away. "Now I'm glad I know it, huh? English won't be any good where I'm going."
Spencer's heart took another pang as he remembered Melanie had maybe a year or more with him and the team before she got married and left the country. She put her head sadly in her hands.
"C'mon, Mel," Reid sighed, holding out a hand for her. "You going to get cold with your hair still wet from your bath and I'm sure your mother wants you back out there."
"I refuse to go back in with that man in my house. Why...If I wasn't so kind-"
"I know, Melly, but please. I don't want to see you get in trouble."
Melanie sighed.
"...He's trying to be my father," she whispers. Spencer pulls her tight to his chest.
"I'm sorry."
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Melanie hid the Bronte sister's book close to her chest, smiling as she read, as if it was a secret. If Mammy caught her, the book would be gone. Spencer smiled as he watched her eyes comb over the page again and again the next page, smiling at the secret.
"Melanie," the voice was calm, and it felt like ice water being poured over her skin. How long had it been since she'd heard that voice say her name? Not long enough.
"Mother," Melanie said, voice dry as she placed the book in a crevasse in the couch.
"Come sit at my feet, child," sighed Mrs. Wilkes. Melanie turned to see her sitting in one of the parlor tan chairs. Melanie accepted the place at her mother's feet awkwardly. Her mother smiled down at her lazily. It was late at night, and the mayor had gone home few hours early. Charlie sat in her father's chair while Victoria had headphones on, her eyes closed in the chair opposite them. Spencer pretended to read his book as Morgan signed off paper work as they shared the love seat in the corner of the room.
"Turn so I can braid your hair, dear."
Melanie obeyed as Mrs. Wilkes ran her hands through Melanie's gold river. Slipping and twining the pieces around one another. She sighed.
"I haven't braided your hair in ages. It's so much simpler than Victoria's."
Spencer noted that he had never seen the younger Wilkes girl without her hair in a braid, her unruly curls threatening at the top of her crown and the nape of her neck. Spencer wondered how it looked with out it produced and tamed like now. He shuttered.
"Melanie, dear, how's Phillip?" sighed her mother too casually. Melanie was instantly on alert, back stiffening more than it was before.
"Fine."
"You two are getting along?"
"Very much so, ma'am."
"You are doing all he asks?"
Melanie winced as she thought of the night in the cemetery when Phillip asked her...in front of her father. Her face paled visibly.
"Yes," she whispered, clearly a lie.
Mrs. Wilkes pursed her lips. "Good," she drew out the word. "I'm just making sure for he will be your husband and your master. And you will do all he asks."
"Nothing unreasonable," Melanie said slightly.
"You still must obey the unreasonable."
Melanie swallowed. "Father never asked you to do anything silly."
"He gave my two children land that could've been mine had it not been for the preen-up."
Melanie paled again. Her father did that? She was upset...but it was smart of him. She smiled.
"Your mother and I...were so different. That's why I loved her, because we weren't compatible in any way. So different. Like fire and rain..."
He knew she wasn't good for him. She hadn't caught that the first time he told her that. He knew she was dangerous, and that marrying Dresella was like playing with fire. He knew that if he died, his children weren't safe if she had the money.
Had Father truly loved anyone else? Melanie thought she would cry. She would never know. A wind of nostalgia slapped her just then, and she remembered his hands on her face, or carrying her to bed. His smell and his smiled and his shockingly beautiful blue eyes and dark brown hair. Melanie wanted her father back right now more than she ever had.
"Oh," was all she could say.
"Melanie, dear, I just want to make sure you aren't doing anything you'll regret."
Melanie stifled a scream as she rose, then looked at Charlie.
"The same goes to you. You need to start looking Charles."
She didn't need to say 'a good wife,' he knew.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and Dresella left, knowing that Charlie would do anything she said. He took a flask from the speakeasy desk, and chugged whatever was in it. Victoria laughed.
"I'll be married to Mr. Kennedy before Charlie will even find a girl," she sneered, leaving the room. Charlie looked sick as he drank back another flask. Melanie stared at nothing, but her eyes were rimmed red again.
"Damn," Charlie muttered, looking through the liquor storage, which was running low. Charlie threw the flask and Melanie screamed, and started sobbing. Charlie looked over at his sister, startled. Spencer did the same, not knowing what caused it this time. Charlie went down slowly to her level.
"Melly?" he asked. She sobbed harder, her chest breaking.
"Melly, what's wrong?" he asked. Mammy ran in and picked her up.
"Needs to be in bed...there, there, Miss Melly. Tell Mammy what's wrong."
The only distinguishable thing the small girl screamed was "I'll never know..."
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Melanie sat up in bed, the darkness scaring her second by second.
Mother was angry. Phillip was tearing her away. Melanie almost was raped. Her mother was replacing Abba. Charlie was drunk and drinking still. Spencer was getting torn from her. She pulled a hand to her mouth to stop the pitiful sobs.
Her father could've loved another woman.
A woman that could be loving Melanie right now.
She wondered if she was too poor, or if there was some sort of hate like the Montagues and the Capulets. Melanie's heart broke as she watched her father's hand being ripped from the hand of a young plain woman with sparkling brown eyes. Brown hair. Pale skin.
She saw the sick look on her grandparents faces as Dresella walked down the isle to marry her father. She thought of the pale brown-haired woman taking the knife down on herself.
Melanie saw her father young again, the dark-haired woman's beside. She was sick and coughing. Maybe she died, and he couldn't love her anymore. Melanie wished her father would be here telling her. She wished he would've kept a promise that didn't involve her death. Damien hadn't been her angel. Who was?
A knock sounded at her door, and Melanie twisted under the covers, pretending to be asleep. The door creaked open, and she heard the squeak of sneakers on the floor. Her heart rate had been pumping until she heard it, and she smiled slightly. She bounded out of the bed, and wrapped her arms around Reid. He fell backwards against the wall, but steadied himself long enough to hold Melanie again. She had lost a considerable amount of weight now, not that she had been a big girl before. He was getting worried, she was just becoming frailer and frailer. Spencer leaned forward, and slipped her back onto her bed. She hung onto his neck for a few more moments before letting go.
"Tomorrow, wanna go somewhere?" she whispered in the dark.
"Sure where?"
"There's a science museum that opened a month ago a few towns over. Or there's a Shakespeare play on the library lawn."
"Library," he said immediately, knowing that that's what she wanted. He could feel her smile in the dark.
"We can go to the museum later in the week if you like," she mumbled, reaching for his hand as he sat in the chair next to her.
"Sounds great."
"...Spencer?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
Melanie paused again, and Spencer saw as his eyes adjusted that she was biting her red lips.
"...Why are you still in my room?"
"Do you want me out?" he whispered sadly.
"No, no! I just...uh...well, there's no more Damien."
"Just here to protect you, Melly."
Melanie stopped again. "It's my nightmares, isn't it?" she whispered. He looked down.
"I'll find a way to stop them, somehow," he whispered.
"You can't stop the demons in my head, Reid. You just...can't..."
He didn't flinch as she called him by his last name. He knew she was upset by the fact the house didn't want to be woken because she was enduring hell in her head. He would be upset too.
"Goodnight, Melanie," he whispered, trying again.
She sighed, but smiled softly. "Goodnight, Spencer," she said, and placed his hand between hers and held it to her neck. Spencer smiled as he slumped in the wooden chair, letting his fingers trail circles onto sleeping beauty's skin.
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Dark. Black. Scared.
I looked around, waiting to for him to come out of the darkness. I was leaned against something but didn't know what for sure.
"Melly?" I heard his voice yell out. I stood alert. I smiled at him when he saw me. I yelled out his name. He embraced me, and his dark skin stood contrast to my pale. The moon passed through the clouds, and I saw his dark eyes deep set in his face. The cheekbones, the pink lips. It's him...
I pushed the dark curls off his forehead. They were clinging with sweat. He'd been running. I didn't stop to think from what.
He pressed his full lips to my forehead, and I closed my eyes, blinking away the blissful tears.
"It's over," he said,"we're almost safe."
I didn't let the word almost haunt me as he took my hand and he started at a sprint. We both stopped as we heard the boom, I out of fear, him out of pain.
He tripped, falling onto the side walk of the strange urban area.
"Johnny!" I yelled, but I couldn't reach him. I saw the blood running through his abdomen, the blood falling from his lips.
"Johnny!" I cried again, frantic. His lips moved to form words and I couldn't understand them.
"What is it?!" I cried. I closed my eyes as the invisible force let me go, falling onto his almost lifeless body. When I opened them again, I didn't see the dark eyes, but the light brown-honey ones in a pale dirty face with unruly honey hair.
"...Spencer..." I whispered breathlessly. "Spencer!" I cry, my voice horribly frantic.
"Shh..." I whisper,"It's...it's gonna be okay..." I wish I could be more reassuring.
He's trying to form words, but I can't get them. Not that I can see him well through my streaming tears anyway.
"What is it?" I ask. He points behind me.
I whip around.
Dark, the barrel of gun. I don't think I've ever looked down one, but it's as scary as I thought it would be.
"It's all your fault," I hear the voice whisper, and I change my view point, and lock on crystal blue eyes.
"Phillip," I whisper. Shock. Betrayal. The tears are coming faster. I feel the bullet go through me, but not before I watch him pull a knife out, and go to finish my friend.
"SPENCER!"
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"SPENCER!!"
Melanie flies up as the cold hand touches her shoulder, shuddering and sweating, her face covered with wet and sticky tears. She tears about the covers till two hands straighten her to focus. She looks deep into dark honey eyes.
"...Spencer..." she says breathlessly, falling, sobbing into his arms.
"Melly," he mumbles, flushing and shocked despite the fact she's in hysterics. "Melly..." he tries again. She's calmed her breath impressively, and she mumbles darkly,"Haven't had that one in a while..."
Spencer tries to pull her away, but she clings to his neck.
"Don't...please don't..." she says, clinging tighter. Her warms tears trail his neck and down his back. He shivers and wonders what hell she's imagined this time. He leans forward, putting her back on the pillow as he sits on the bed. She reluctantly lets go as he pries her off again. Her face is red and frightened and she won't look him in the eye.
"What was it?" he asks after a pregnant pause. Another one follows.
"It was Johnny," she says, then slowly meets his eyes, then tears away. "And then you." He flinches, and it makes Melanie go cold to the core. Spencer can't be scared of dying...he just...he wouldn't leave her like that...
But he could. Just like her father. Just like Damien. Just like Phillip's brother.
Death has something out for Melly.
Why the hell doesn't he just take me?
"Who?" he asks. Melanie buries her head in her hands.
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," she whispers. He stares.
"It wasn't...I mean...not y-"
"Phillip," she spits out before Spencer can accuse her of subconsciously killing him.
Spencer looks away. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.
"Don't...just...don't..." she says, pulling him tight to her. She cries again in his arms. "Don't ever leave me..." she whispers.
"Do you..." he mumbles after a moment,"do you have...other dreams about me-"
Melanie chuckles darkly to cut him off. The laugh ends with a choked sob trying to break through. "This one was no where near the worst. I've watched you..." she can't say it. "so many times...I've lost count. I can't lose you. Not like him. Not again."
Spencer nods.
"You won't," he promised. Melanie pursed her lips in the dark, and Spencer did the same. Neither had the heart to tell the other they knew it was a promise he couldn't keep.
It was Mammy's turn to snort. "Feminists. Huh. Wantin' to work when all they had to do was sit around and look pretty. They was messin' in things they shouldn't've. No good... white trash..."
Melanie screamed into her pillow. Mammy slapped her with it.
Melly squealed and then laughed. After Mammy left, Melanie asked Reid for a embrace.
"You'll get me a book, won't you, Spencer?" she asked. Reid's chest shook with laughter, and Melanie pulled him tighter.
"Of course, what do you need?"
Need, he had said. Not want. Understands...
"Anything off the third self on my library, please. In my room."
He nodded, then surreptitiously slide up the stairs to fetch his best friend her desire.
*****************************************************************************************************************
"I'm thrilled to hear how well you are doing, Melanie," the older man's voice was smoothed over with concern that Melanie knew was false.
"Miss Wilkes, if you don't mind."
"Oh, come now. We don't need to be formal, do we Melly?"
Melanie twitched in her seat, her wet hair clinging to the back of her head, eyes burning at Mayor Barly. Her father called her Melly. He shouldn't call her that. He should never call her that.
"Mayor-"
"Stop it, Melanie, we're friend's here."
Melanie wanted to scream. She wanted to throw something at him. She didn't care how weak the medicine made her or how heavy her eyes were with threatening tears. She wanted him out of her line of sight, out of her home, out of her life. Most of all, she wanted him out of Charlie's chair. When he first walked in, he walk toward her father's and Melanie took great pride in snatching her father's oak desk chair from the Mayor. She knew she would've screamed at him then. Melanie owned Ardely, yes. But so did Charlie. Melanie knew if she threw a fit, that Mother would make Charlie let him stay. Melanie wanted to cry, but all she could do was stare back at the Mayor and make sure her glare didn't lose it's power. He looked away. She smiled icily.
***
"I've never seen Melanie so...mean," JJ said to Spencer. They were both in the kitchen, helping Cal with the dishes. Cal snorted.
"Melanie is the sweetest thing now, but you should've seen her when she was young. She and Charles would wrestle in the yard, ever since they were young, like kittens. But they were mean to each other about it. Charles came in with a black eye, Melanie didn't even apologize. She was spoiled to the core, but she was also kind to everything as well. She wouldn't let you kill a spider. It always creeped me out how she wasn't afraid of 'em. She just take it in her hands and let it out the window. What did she call it? She always laughed when she...Arachnophilia! I'm not even sure it's a word..."
"No, Cal, it is," Melanie sighed, stalking in, taking a cup from the cupboard and filling it was water, slumping down in front of the stove.
"Arachno is Latin for spider and philia means love of."
"You used that word when you were three."
"And I've always been good at Latin." She smiled angrily, throwing back another glass of water as if she was living on it.
"And Spanish and French..."
"Latin was always the easiest though. I didn't have to look twice at it to remember it. Spanish took me a little longer...French was the hardest, but it wasn't hard at all. I just liked it."
"You took all those languages?" Spencer asked. Melly snorted.
"Latin I just picked up on through medical terminology and a few prefix books. Latin isn't hard at all...but it's so beautiful," she sighed. "My father loved it. I took Spanish in high school but I just learned French a few years ago. I wanted to take a trip..." her look got far away. "Now I'm glad I know it, huh? English won't be any good where I'm going."
Spencer's heart took another pang as he remembered Melanie had maybe a year or more with him and the team before she got married and left the country. She put her head sadly in her hands.
"C'mon, Mel," Reid sighed, holding out a hand for her. "You going to get cold with your hair still wet from your bath and I'm sure your mother wants you back out there."
"I refuse to go back in with that man in my house. Why...If I wasn't so kind-"
"I know, Melly, but please. I don't want to see you get in trouble."
Melanie sighed.
"...He's trying to be my father," she whispers. Spencer pulls her tight to his chest.
"I'm sorry."
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Melanie hid the Bronte sister's book close to her chest, smiling as she read, as if it was a secret. If Mammy caught her, the book would be gone. Spencer smiled as he watched her eyes comb over the page again and again the next page, smiling at the secret.
"Melanie," the voice was calm, and it felt like ice water being poured over her skin. How long had it been since she'd heard that voice say her name? Not long enough.
"Mother," Melanie said, voice dry as she placed the book in a crevasse in the couch.
"Come sit at my feet, child," sighed Mrs. Wilkes. Melanie turned to see her sitting in one of the parlor tan chairs. Melanie accepted the place at her mother's feet awkwardly. Her mother smiled down at her lazily. It was late at night, and the mayor had gone home few hours early. Charlie sat in her father's chair while Victoria had headphones on, her eyes closed in the chair opposite them. Spencer pretended to read his book as Morgan signed off paper work as they shared the love seat in the corner of the room.
"Turn so I can braid your hair, dear."
Melanie obeyed as Mrs. Wilkes ran her hands through Melanie's gold river. Slipping and twining the pieces around one another. She sighed.
"I haven't braided your hair in ages. It's so much simpler than Victoria's."
Spencer noted that he had never seen the younger Wilkes girl without her hair in a braid, her unruly curls threatening at the top of her crown and the nape of her neck. Spencer wondered how it looked with out it produced and tamed like now. He shuttered.
"Melanie, dear, how's Phillip?" sighed her mother too casually. Melanie was instantly on alert, back stiffening more than it was before.
"Fine."
"You two are getting along?"
"Very much so, ma'am."
"You are doing all he asks?"
Melanie winced as she thought of the night in the cemetery when Phillip asked her...in front of her father. Her face paled visibly.
"Yes," she whispered, clearly a lie.
Mrs. Wilkes pursed her lips. "Good," she drew out the word. "I'm just making sure for he will be your husband and your master. And you will do all he asks."
"Nothing unreasonable," Melanie said slightly.
"You still must obey the unreasonable."
Melanie swallowed. "Father never asked you to do anything silly."
"He gave my two children land that could've been mine had it not been for the preen-up."
Melanie paled again. Her father did that? She was upset...but it was smart of him. She smiled.
"Your mother and I...were so different. That's why I loved her, because we weren't compatible in any way. So different. Like fire and rain..."
He knew she wasn't good for him. She hadn't caught that the first time he told her that. He knew she was dangerous, and that marrying Dresella was like playing with fire. He knew that if he died, his children weren't safe if she had the money.
Had Father truly loved anyone else? Melanie thought she would cry. She would never know. A wind of nostalgia slapped her just then, and she remembered his hands on her face, or carrying her to bed. His smell and his smiled and his shockingly beautiful blue eyes and dark brown hair. Melanie wanted her father back right now more than she ever had.
"Oh," was all she could say.
"Melanie, dear, I just want to make sure you aren't doing anything you'll regret."
Melanie stifled a scream as she rose, then looked at Charlie.
"The same goes to you. You need to start looking Charles."
She didn't need to say 'a good wife,' he knew.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, and Dresella left, knowing that Charlie would do anything she said. He took a flask from the speakeasy desk, and chugged whatever was in it. Victoria laughed.
"I'll be married to Mr. Kennedy before Charlie will even find a girl," she sneered, leaving the room. Charlie looked sick as he drank back another flask. Melanie stared at nothing, but her eyes were rimmed red again.
"Damn," Charlie muttered, looking through the liquor storage, which was running low. Charlie threw the flask and Melanie screamed, and started sobbing. Charlie looked over at his sister, startled. Spencer did the same, not knowing what caused it this time. Charlie went down slowly to her level.
"Melly?" he asked. She sobbed harder, her chest breaking.
"Melly, what's wrong?" he asked. Mammy ran in and picked her up.
"Needs to be in bed...there, there, Miss Melly. Tell Mammy what's wrong."
The only distinguishable thing the small girl screamed was "I'll never know..."
*****************************************************************************************************************
Melanie sat up in bed, the darkness scaring her second by second.
Mother was angry. Phillip was tearing her away. Melanie almost was raped. Her mother was replacing Abba. Charlie was drunk and drinking still. Spencer was getting torn from her. She pulled a hand to her mouth to stop the pitiful sobs.
Her father could've loved another woman.
A woman that could be loving Melanie right now.
She wondered if she was too poor, or if there was some sort of hate like the Montagues and the Capulets. Melanie's heart broke as she watched her father's hand being ripped from the hand of a young plain woman with sparkling brown eyes. Brown hair. Pale skin.
She saw the sick look on her grandparents faces as Dresella walked down the isle to marry her father. She thought of the pale brown-haired woman taking the knife down on herself.
Melanie saw her father young again, the dark-haired woman's beside. She was sick and coughing. Maybe she died, and he couldn't love her anymore. Melanie wished her father would be here telling her. She wished he would've kept a promise that didn't involve her death. Damien hadn't been her angel. Who was?
A knock sounded at her door, and Melanie twisted under the covers, pretending to be asleep. The door creaked open, and she heard the squeak of sneakers on the floor. Her heart rate had been pumping until she heard it, and she smiled slightly. She bounded out of the bed, and wrapped her arms around Reid. He fell backwards against the wall, but steadied himself long enough to hold Melanie again. She had lost a considerable amount of weight now, not that she had been a big girl before. He was getting worried, she was just becoming frailer and frailer. Spencer leaned forward, and slipped her back onto her bed. She hung onto his neck for a few more moments before letting go.
"Tomorrow, wanna go somewhere?" she whispered in the dark.
"Sure where?"
"There's a science museum that opened a month ago a few towns over. Or there's a Shakespeare play on the library lawn."
"Library," he said immediately, knowing that that's what she wanted. He could feel her smile in the dark.
"We can go to the museum later in the week if you like," she mumbled, reaching for his hand as he sat in the chair next to her.
"Sounds great."
"...Spencer?" she asked.
"Yeah?"
Melanie paused again, and Spencer saw as his eyes adjusted that she was biting her red lips.
"...Why are you still in my room?"
"Do you want me out?" he whispered sadly.
"No, no! I just...uh...well, there's no more Damien."
"Just here to protect you, Melly."
Melanie stopped again. "It's my nightmares, isn't it?" she whispered. He looked down.
"I'll find a way to stop them, somehow," he whispered.
"You can't stop the demons in my head, Reid. You just...can't..."
He didn't flinch as she called him by his last name. He knew she was upset by the fact the house didn't want to be woken because she was enduring hell in her head. He would be upset too.
"Goodnight, Melanie," he whispered, trying again.
She sighed, but smiled softly. "Goodnight, Spencer," she said, and placed his hand between hers and held it to her neck. Spencer smiled as he slumped in the wooden chair, letting his fingers trail circles onto sleeping beauty's skin.
*****************************************************************************************************************
Dark. Black. Scared.
I looked around, waiting to for him to come out of the darkness. I was leaned against something but didn't know what for sure.
"Melly?" I heard his voice yell out. I stood alert. I smiled at him when he saw me. I yelled out his name. He embraced me, and his dark skin stood contrast to my pale. The moon passed through the clouds, and I saw his dark eyes deep set in his face. The cheekbones, the pink lips. It's him...
I pushed the dark curls off his forehead. They were clinging with sweat. He'd been running. I didn't stop to think from what.
He pressed his full lips to my forehead, and I closed my eyes, blinking away the blissful tears.
"It's over," he said,"we're almost safe."
I didn't let the word almost haunt me as he took my hand and he started at a sprint. We both stopped as we heard the boom, I out of fear, him out of pain.
He tripped, falling onto the side walk of the strange urban area.
"Johnny!" I yelled, but I couldn't reach him. I saw the blood running through his abdomen, the blood falling from his lips.
"Johnny!" I cried again, frantic. His lips moved to form words and I couldn't understand them.
"What is it?!" I cried. I closed my eyes as the invisible force let me go, falling onto his almost lifeless body. When I opened them again, I didn't see the dark eyes, but the light brown-honey ones in a pale dirty face with unruly honey hair.
"...Spencer..." I whispered breathlessly. "Spencer!" I cry, my voice horribly frantic.
"Shh..." I whisper,"It's...it's gonna be okay..." I wish I could be more reassuring.
He's trying to form words, but I can't get them. Not that I can see him well through my streaming tears anyway.
"What is it?" I ask. He points behind me.
I whip around.
Dark, the barrel of gun. I don't think I've ever looked down one, but it's as scary as I thought it would be.
"It's all your fault," I hear the voice whisper, and I change my view point, and lock on crystal blue eyes.
"Phillip," I whisper. Shock. Betrayal. The tears are coming faster. I feel the bullet go through me, but not before I watch him pull a knife out, and go to finish my friend.
"SPENCER!"
*****************************************************************************************************************
"SPENCER!!"
Melanie flies up as the cold hand touches her shoulder, shuddering and sweating, her face covered with wet and sticky tears. She tears about the covers till two hands straighten her to focus. She looks deep into dark honey eyes.
"...Spencer..." she says breathlessly, falling, sobbing into his arms.
"Melly," he mumbles, flushing and shocked despite the fact she's in hysterics. "Melly..." he tries again. She's calmed her breath impressively, and she mumbles darkly,"Haven't had that one in a while..."
Spencer tries to pull her away, but she clings to his neck.
"Don't...please don't..." she says, clinging tighter. Her warms tears trail his neck and down his back. He shivers and wonders what hell she's imagined this time. He leans forward, putting her back on the pillow as he sits on the bed. She reluctantly lets go as he pries her off again. Her face is red and frightened and she won't look him in the eye.
"What was it?" he asks after a pregnant pause. Another one follows.
"It was Johnny," she says, then slowly meets his eyes, then tears away. "And then you." He flinches, and it makes Melanie go cold to the core. Spencer can't be scared of dying...he just...he wouldn't leave her like that...
But he could. Just like her father. Just like Damien. Just like Phillip's brother.
Death has something out for Melly.
Why the hell doesn't he just take me?
"Who?" he asks. Melanie buries her head in her hands.
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask," she whispers. He stares.
"It wasn't...I mean...not y-"
"Phillip," she spits out before Spencer can accuse her of subconsciously killing him.
Spencer looks away. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.
"Don't...just...don't..." she says, pulling him tight to her. She cries again in his arms. "Don't ever leave me..." she whispers.
"Do you..." he mumbles after a moment,"do you have...other dreams about me-"
Melanie chuckles darkly to cut him off. The laugh ends with a choked sob trying to break through. "This one was no where near the worst. I've watched you..." she can't say it. "so many times...I've lost count. I can't lose you. Not like him. Not again."
Spencer nods.
"You won't," he promised. Melanie pursed her lips in the dark, and Spencer did the same. Neither had the heart to tell the other they knew it was a promise he couldn't keep.
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