Short Story
I found this on my hard drive. It was going to be a longer story, but I think it makes an all right short story as well. Maybe. Heh. Thoughts?



They drove for six hours before pulling over. Simon looked out the window, saw they were in a gas station. He looked towards his mother, trying to see past the forming bruise on her cheek. She forced a smile -the same smile she forced out for a hundred and fifty miles. It was like if she stopped smiling, she'd start crying.

"We're out of gas, kiddo." She said, unbuckling her seat belt. "And, I don't know where we're going…"

Simon wanted to ask that the second they got in the car, but his heart was pounding so fast, his mother looked so afraid, he didn't want to add one more problem. It was almost comforting to know she didn't know either. They were both lost, so confused.

She looked him over, frowning at his appearance. Boxer shorts and a tank top, white where it wasn't stained with blood. He didn’t have time to stop for pants, let alone shoes. "Stay in the car." She said, glancing at him, worried frown creasing her face before she got out of the car, belly first, like all pregnant women seem to do.

Simon watched her run-walk into the gas station. It was raining; he saw it as very fitting. Alone, he shivered, looking at himself in the review mirror. His face looked bad, but not as bad as he thought it would. The cut above his left eye had mostly stopped bleeding; his lip was cut and puffy, but that was it. It didn't hurt, though it looked like it should.

A knock on the window made him jump. He looked up to see his mother looking down at him, still wearing that worried-but-it-will-all-work-out smile. He rolled down the window, looked up at her.

"Here, kiddo." She said, holding out a package of Twinkies. Any other day, she would be yelling at him for his junk food addiction. This day, she was feeding it, like she didn't know what else to do.

Simon raised his hand up to take the cakes, confused when the smile disappeared from his mother's face. She took his wrist in her hand, automatically, he tried to pull it back, but she held fast, peeled open his bloody fist, frowning at the two guitar strings in his torn palm.

Simon looked up at her, just as surprised as she was. He remembered the thud of the guitar against Lew's head, remembered the feel of the neck breaking under his hands as he swung again, and then a third time before his mother's arms wrapped around him, pregnant belly pressed against his back as she yanked him backwards.

Simon closed his eyes and shivered, pulling his hand back, surprised when she let him. He didn't even wince as he pulled the strings out of his skin, frowning at the blood that leaked slowly out. She put the Twinkies on his lap, then said something about using the phone, voice shaking slightly. Simon stared down at the string in his hand, then awkwardly managed to tie it around his right wrist. He looked up, looking like a child that had been caught playing with matches, when the door opened and she wedged herself back in the car.

She put her hand on the back of his head, which made him shudder, and pulled him over for a kiss to the temple. He let her, knew somewhere in his mind that she needed to do it, needed to feel like she was comforting her child.

"We're going to New York. I just spoke with Carrie –my roommate from college—she said she can put us up until we get settled." There was a change in her, like once she knew where their destination was, things would be better. Simon wasn't sure if he agreed. He just nodded and went back to looking out the window as she pulled away from the pump.

"We need to get you clothes..." She said, sounding more like she was talking to herself than him. "The man inside said there is a Walmart down this road."

Simon just nodded again, closing his eyes and resting his head against the window.

This, he thought distantly, must be what it's like to be in shock. Then he fell into an exhausted sleep.


Simon woke up alone in the car, terrified, sweating from a half nightmare-half memory that left his stomach aching and his heart pounding. He looked around, breathing heavy, and realized that he was in a parking lot. He opened the door and dry heaved onto the pavement, embarrassed. Slamming the door harder than necessary almost made him feel better. There was a warm can of coke sitting in the cup holder, he took a few swallows to wash the taste out of his mouth. It didn't help.

He rummaged through the glove compartment, found a half melted mint. It was better than the slick taste of bile in his mouth, so he popped it in and waited. Looked at the map, the red line his mother had drawn through it, right to up state New York, thought about the states they were going to go through. Tried to remember the capitols of them all, found out US geography isn't his strong suit when he's half in shock. Then he waited some more.

He was down to trying to remember any city in the states he was going through when his mother got back. He looked up as she handed him a heavy bag. She got into the drivers seat, but didn't start the car.

"I didn't want to wake you." She said, opening the bag and taking out a package of black t-shirts, and placed them on the dashboard. A pair of jeans, that looked too long followed. Finally, she seemed to find what she wanted, and came out with a tiny first aid kit.

"We should clean up your hand." She explained. Simon didn't even flinch as she started to clean out the cut with a tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol. She did all the wincing for him. There were a few gauze pads and a roll of it, so she placed them over the cut and wrapped it up. Simon was still surprised that it didn't hurt. It looked deep enough that he might need stitches.

"There," She said softly, and kissed the bandage. He couldn't remember the last time his mom kissed his boo-boo better. It made him smile. She smiled back, the first non-forced one in six hours, maybe the first since Lew moved in. "Get dressed. There's some tennis shoes in the bag too."

Simon wanted privacy. He didn't want to take off his shirt in front of her, he knew the bruises there, the round unmistakable hickeys, but there really wasn't any choice. He did it as fast as possible, like when he changed for gym. If she noticed anything, she didn't say a word. The jeans were pulled on next, like he thought, they were a little too long, the shoes a bit too tight. Still, it was nice not to sit in his boxers anymore.

She dug through the bag again, Simon wondered just how much she spent on him. She came out with a bottle of water and a box of medicine. "Take it," She said, popping one pill out from its plastic bubble.

Simon took the pill, and washed it back with some water. He looked at her, biting his swollen lip. That didn't hurt either.

"Nyquil. It'll make things a little easier. We still have a bit of a drive ahead."

Simon wanted to ask what about her, the baby, if it was safe to put the unborn child through this much stress, but he couldn't get himself to open his mouth. If he opened it, he was afraid he'd start screaming. He just nodded, biting his lip harder when she gave him a worried look. He tasted copper, realized his lip was bleeding again, found it hard to care.

"I got some protein bars, want one? Or we could try to find a fast food place..." She sounded a second away from unraveling. "Say something, baby." She whispered, voice trembling. "Tell me how to help."

Why did you move in with him, he thought bitterly, but knew better than to say that. He knew he'd die without ever knowing what she saw in Lew. How'd you let yourself get pregnant, was question number two, but again, he knew better. Instead he forced a smile and picked out one of the protein bars. He doubted he could stomach fast food burgers right then.

"This is fine." He said, voice hoarse, from emotion, screaming, or disuse, he wasn't sure. It didn't really matter. Those three words put a smile on her face. She pulled one out for herself, then tossed the bag in the backseat.

She ate hers in silence, looking over the map. Simon managed a few bites before it started to turn his stomach. He forced himself to finish it, he didn't want his mother to worry anymore than she already was.

"Doesn't look that far." She said, running her finger across from Indiana to New York.

Simon looked at the map and nodded. He wondered if it was far enough, but didn't say that either.


F-Locked Baby!Erin pics to follow. She's home and sooo cuuute.

Perfectly healthy now.