Phone Part 2
The cell phone salespeople are very helpful. A new phone, a new private number, no calls forwarded from the old one- all done in less than an hour. They don't ask any questions either, which I'm grateful for- I can't think of a good excuse.
Even my work doesn't ask any questions when I give them the new number. Then again, it's not like I've ever given them much trouble about anything at all. I come in early, I stay late, I don't complain about deadlines or extra projects. I'm grateful to them- the work I do there keeps my mind off things.
The radio is still buzzing about the attacks as I drive home. I turn it to a different station, one playing some sort of soft music, and try to force myself to think of something else.
But I can't.
Duo sounded so angry on the phone. As angry as he'd sounded that day, when we'd made it safely back to HQ and we'd noticed the bullet graze on the side of his chest. He hadn't really even felt it on top of all the other bruises and scrapes he'd picked up over the last two days. We hadn't been able to wear any of our protective gear- and right at the end things had gotten a little tense. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't much of an injury- Duo had gotten worse after all.
But it had made me feel decidedly shaky- and Duo had noticed.
I shouldn't have answered the way I did when he'd asked me what was wrong- but I couldn't help it. The words had just come out of my mouth without any hesitation-
"I don't think I could take it if something happened to you..."
It had taken a moment- one for me to realize what I'd said- and one for it to sink in to Duo what it meant.
"What the hell do you mean?"
Even now I can't think of his anger without wincing- he'd been furious. I don't even remember everything he said that day- I think I stopped listening in sheer self-defense. He'd told me to go- told me that he never wanted to see me again- and stormed out of our office. I did what he asked. I went back to our- his- apartment and packed up the few things I needed and left- as he requested.
Why was he still so angry?
It doesn't matter, I tell myself as I pull into my parking space. It's over. I'll never call again- no matter what happens. I'll just wait until all the official reports are out or hack the Preventers main system- or something- anything that he won't find out about.
The elevator is empty as I ride up to my floor. I'm not surprised- it's late after all and I would bet that most of my neighbors are sleeping at this hour. For just a moment I wonder if I should press the button for the roof... one step and I won't have to deal with all of this anymore...
But I can't. I promised him once, ages ago, after the last war that I wouldn't do anything like that- and even if he now wishes that I'd never made that promise- I won't break it now.
Once inside my apartment I turn the tv on to the movie channel, the sound low but loud enough to drive the silence out of the corners of the room.
I'm contemplating my empty fridge when my doorbell rings and I sigh. Bet it's my neighbor again, complaining about the tv noise. It's not that loud is it? Have I become unable to judge that sort of thing?
Grabbing the remote, I head to the front door, turning down the sound.
I open the front door, remote still in hand. "See-" I start, but it's not Mrs. Wright at all.
Duo's propped up on crutches, pale and worn, bruised and scratched. "Invite me in?"
I step back at once, letting him stump his way past me before closing the door. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
He stops, his eyes sweeping over my meager apartment, taking in the battered tv, the small kitchenette, my lumpy sofa.
Leaning back against the door, I wonder how he found me.
TBC...
Back to Merula's Fanfictions Page