Ooh, hello!
Title: Bruised
Pairing: Onesided-Briley? Twosided-Briley? What do you think?
Rating: PG
Summary: Oneshot for the Songfic challenge, using Jack’s Mannequin’s “Bruised.” Enjoy!
Warnings: Really long, somewhat angsty, somewhat vague, weird ending, excessive use of italics…
I’ve got my things, I’m good to go. You met me at the terminal. Just one more plane ride and it’s done.
Riley Poole picked up his backpack and swung it over his shoulder as the line moved forward again, shoving him to the front. He stumbled awkwardly up to the counter and gave the woman manning it a stretching his expression into some semblance of a smile. The effort hurt. He received a brilliant smile from the girl in return. Her name tag read “Rachel, Southwest Airlines.”
“May I see your boarding pass, sir?” she asked in a lilting voice. Riley handed her the ticket wordlessly. “Oh, Seattle. Visiting family?”
“Just getting a change of scenery.” he muttered, looking away.
“How many bags?”
“Just two carry-ons.” he held up his laptop bag as evidence.
“Alright.” she glanced once more at his ticket before handing it back. Flight boards in twenty minutes. Be sure any liquids are properly displayed in a one-quart Ziploc bag and your computer will have to be taken out of the bag to be scanned.”
He nodded, taking his boarding pass back. As he headed to his gate, he checked his watch, noting the time.
“Riley!” a painfully familiar voice called from behind him. He froze automatically, tensing against the hand the landed on his shoulder, wheeling him around. Before he could collect himself, Riley found himself facing no other than Ben Gates. “Are you really leaving?”
“Judging by the bags and the overpriced ticket, I’d say that’s a yes.” His retort was sharper than he intended and he halfway felt sorry about it.
Ben looked stung. “Why?” The techie raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. “Well?” the historian persisted.
“I don’t see why you care.” returned Riley coldly. “You made it perfectly clear what you thought of me already.”
We stood like statues at the gates, vacation come and gone too late. There’s so much sun where I’m from. Had to get it away, had to get you away.
Finally, Ben broke the uneasy silence that had decended on them. “Riley, I--” he paused. “I wasn’t expecting you to…whatever I said, I didn’t mean it.”
“You only said that because you can’t stand to see me happy when you haven’t got anyone?” the computer expert quoted in a perfect imitation of Ben’s voice. “I’m so glad you didn’t actually mean that.” his voice dripped with sarcasm. “It makes me feel so much better!”
Ben didn’t know how to reply to that. “Riley--”
“Flight nineteen-seventeen to Seattle is now boarding.” a cool female voice announced over the intercom. “Flight nineteen-seventeen to Seattle.”
“That’s my flight.” Riley said, without looking at Ben. “I gotta go.”’ He turned and hurried away, ignoring the historian’s calls. Just as he reached the gate, he glanced back, catching a look of Ben’s expression, which seemed to be caught somewhere between disappointment and confusion. Riley heaved a sigh and heading out onto the landing deck. He found his seat quickly and collapsed into it, rubbing his temples.
And we spent four days on an island at your family’s old hotel. Sometimes perfection can be, it can be perfect hell.
He kept replaying that week in his mind. He, Ben and Abigail had been invited out to the hotel that Emily and Patrick had built with there share of treasure number two. The weather had been beautiful, the beach free of tourists, and even Emily and Patrick weren’t bickering. It had been perfect, that is, until Riley had opened his big mouth…
“Ben, I think I love you…”
Riley groaned and buried his face in his hands. What had he been thinking?
“Welcome aboard, this is your captain speaking. You are flying Southwest Airlines from Washington, D.C. to Seattle, Washington. We are preparing for liftoff, so please fasten your seatbelts and do not remove them until the seatbelt light goes off. Thank you and enjoy your flight.” the intercom clicked off.
Riley put on his seatbelt and stared out the window as they accelerated and then lifted off. They rose quickly, leveling off above the clouds. The seatbelt light blinked off and the techie was instantly out of his seat, to keyed up to sit.
I lace my Chucks, I walk the aisles. I take my pills, the babies cry. All I hear, is what’s playing through the in-flight radio.
Riley wandered up and down the aisles aimlessly. He passed a man reading Reader’s Digest and a woman who seemed to be praying. A teen with darkly-lined eyes glared at him as he passed. A tiny Chinese woman held an open copy of The DaVinci Code but her mind was obviously elsewhere. Somewhere in the plane, a toddler screamed for his cup. A very old couple sat in a pair of seats by the window, both fast asleep, with their heads resting against each others.
Eventually, Riley ran into a flight attendant. “Can I get some headphones?” he asked. The flight attendant, a busty brunette, gave him a wide, flirty smile. The techie didn’t notice, and headed back to seat, leaving her disappointed.
Now every word, of every song, I ever heard, that made me wanna stay is what’s playing on the in-flight radio.
Riley plopped down in his seat and plugged the headphones in, placing them over his ears. He listened to the first station for only a few seconds before switching it. The song was bothering him. Whatever was playing on the second station was annoying too, so he changed it again. And then again, and then again. When he arrived back at the first channel again, he pulled the headphones off with a low swear. Every single song reminded him of what had happened, reminded him that he was running away, reminded him of Ben.
And I, I am finally waking up…
For the rest of the flight, the techie stayed, uncomfortable and cramped, in his designated seat. He didn’t notice the in-flight movie, or the noises around him, or even the stewardess that offered him a drink. Riley ignored the glass she sat in front of him, staring out the window at the stars.
“Please fasten your seatbelts; we are now descending towards Seattle. We will arrive in approximately twenty-five minutes. Thank you.”
Riley snapped on his seatbelt and leaning back in his seat, drumming his fingers against his knee. He was beginning to have second thoughts about this. Should he really run away? Was he doing the right thing? When he realized that he didn’t know the answers, Riley’s stomach clenched painfully.
What seemed like far more than twenty-five minutes passed before the plane landed with an unpleasant bump. Because he only had carry-ons, Riley breezed through the airport. He hailed a taxi and a bright yellow one pulled up immediately.
“Where ya need ta go, kid?” asked the cab driver as he clambered into the back.
“I need to find a place to stay.”
“Know jus’ the place.” the driver nodded wisely. “Space Needle Hotel?”
“That sounds fine.”
It started to rain as the taxi screeched away from the curb. Riley stared out at the rain with a sort of fascination. And then that question floated across his mind again. Am I doing the right thing?
Hours pass and he still counts the minutes that I am not there. I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this, like every inch of me is bruised.
After paying the cab fair and thanking the driver, Riley checked into a room on the fifteenth floor. The room was nicer than most he had ever experienced, with a clean, modern look and an amazing view. However, the techie took no notice of this, too busy kicking off his sneakers and curling up under the covers on the queen-sized bed.
Unfortunately, wouldn’t come. He tossed and turned all night, unable to get his mind silenced. Finally, somewhere around four, he gave up and turned on the television. He hadn’t been gone twenty-four hours, and already he was regretting this decision.
The next few days passed in much the same way. Riley spent his days wandering the city, halfheartedly looking for an apartment. At night, he lay awake, letting the loneliness wash over him. He had been in Seattle for nine days when he finally gave up. He missed Ben. He wanted to go home.
Don’t fly fast, oh pilot can you help me, can you make this last? This plane is all I’ve got, so keep it steady now, ‘cause every inch of me is bruised, bruised.
The next night, Riley arrived back in the D.C. Airport. Thankfully, his car had yet to be sent out west, so, after some negotiating, he was able to get the bright red Spyder back. He hopped in, the familiarity of the car improving upon his mood somewhat. The drive that usually took twenty minutes only took fifteen, and Riley soon found himself near Ben’s house.
He turned his lights off and parked a little ways away. After scribbling a hasty note, he jumped out of the car and walked the rest of the way in the dark.
When he reached the historian’s house, he saw only one light on, in the study. He also noted that Abigail’s car was missing. He saw Ben through the window, pouring over an enormous, ancient-looking book, with the same air as the Chinese woman on the plane. The techie slipped to the door and dropped the note through the mail slot before hurrying away, unnoticed.
A few hours later, Ben got up to get a soda. He wandered through the empty house listlessly. It had never occurred to him how lonely the place could be. On his way back to the study, he crossed through the main hall. Observant as always, he stopped, spotting a piece of paper near the front door. Curiously, he picked it up.
Hey Ben,
I came back. I guess that’s kind of ‘duh’ since I probably couldn’t have left a letter at your house if I was in Seattle. Anyways. That’s not what I’m trying to discuss here.
I’m not taking back what I said. If anything, that trip to Seattle made me more sure than ever. If that’s cool, you can find me anytime at that bar near your place. If you don’t want to see me again, well, I guess that’s cool too. So, yeah.
Riley
Ben stared at the note for a long moment before dropping it and grabbing his coat.
So read your books, but stay out late some nights, some nights. And don’t think that you can’t stop by the bar.
Riley drummed a staccato beat on the table with his fingers, hardly seeing the screen in front of him. He glanced up hopefully as the door opened, only to see four barely 21 year-olds, two boys and their girlfriends, already trashed, stumble in. Idly, he wondered how many bars they’d already been to tonight. One of the girls made a high-pitched noise that he supposed to be a giggle.
The techie sighed, taking a gulp of whatever-the-hell he had ordered, wincing at its bitter taste. He returned his eyes to the computer screen reluctantly. God, he hoped Ben would come.
You haven’t shown your face here since the bad news. But I’m here ‘till close, with fingers crossed each night, ‘cause your place isn’t far.
When he finished his first, Riley ordered another drink, the sinking feeling in his stomach in no way related to the alcohol. He wasn’t coming, Riley was sure of it. Another glance at the opening door only caused another pang of disappointment. He took a swallow of his drink and stared despondently down at the grain of the table.
And hours pass…and hours pass, yeah.
It was nearly closing time and Riley was the only customer left. He could see that the bartender was about to kick him out when the door opened. When Riley looked up, it was more out of instinct than hope. He hadn’t really expected to see Ben standing there awkwardly.
But he was, and Riley felt his first sincere smile in weeks appear on his face. Ben returned the gesture uncertainly and came to sit across from the techie.
Hours pass, and he still counts the minutes that I am not there. I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this, like every inch of me is bruised.
Bruised, bruised.
Love it? Hate it? First songfic I've done in a while, but I like it. Let me know what YOU think!