The Guilt Trip [slow updates]

[26] Rockabye, Wadey

Wade sat slumped in the driver's seat, googling Brazil for the heck of it. After a few hours' research, he turned to the sleeping lump that was Skipper and gave her a gentle shove.

   "Go'way," she muttered, words barely a slur as she made a failed attempt to swat his hand away. Rolling his eyes, he continued to shove her until she finally lifted her head and squinted over her shoulder at him. "What?" she sounded annoyed.

   "We can't go to Brazil."

   "Ugh, why?" Squinting a little harder, she glared at the glow emanating from his phone screen. "Turn that off, it's hurting my eyes."

   He simply turned it over. "Crime rate's too high."

   "You think we'll get robbed?" she grunted, turning herself around completely and readjusting her travel blanket.

   Wade didn't answer, wouldn't look at her. Just sat there, staring out the windshield. He seemed to do that a lot, especially when something was bothering him. Annoyed as she was at being woken up, Skipper groggily stretched a hand out to touch his wrist—intending to reassure him. He withdrew his hand sharply.

   "What the heck is wrong with you?! Remind me to never wake you up again," he sputtered. The girl was still not awake enough to really care, only mumbling a reiteration of the question he'd ignored.

    Finally, he sighed. "It's not necessarily a concern about being robbed, it's just...well..." then he bent his head and mumbled something about stress that she couldn't quite hear. Her persistence worn thin, she simply shrugged it off and turned her back on him again. Wade stared at her, blinking. "So what, you're just gonna go back to sleep?"

   "Sure. Why not," she mumbled, snuggling down beneath her blanket. After a moment of awkward silence she added, "You should sleep too. Worry about Braziminals in the morning."

   "That's a horrible name for Brazilian criminals."

   "You're a horrible name for Brazilian criminals. Go to sleep."

   "But I thought tomorrow wasn't promised," he smirked, to which she merely responded with a shake of the head; he couldn't see that she was also rolling her eyes.

   "Just sleep, Wade. I hate it when you're overtired because then you're just bitter and no fun to pick on."

   "Oh, that's how it is, is it?" He demanded, a little more harshly than he'd intended. Biting his lip, he fell silent and waited for her to start pouting or something.

   However, she didn't pout. She didn't even try to make him feel bad, which was honestly quite unusual. She sat up, looked him straight in the eyes and said calmly, "Yes. That's how it is. Now go to sleep."

"I don't want to, and you can't make me."

"Oh yeah? You wanna bet?" Her voice raised a couple octaves, just enough to set him on edge. What she said next, though, really threw him off.

"What if...what if I sing you the lullaby my mother sang to me whenever I couldn't sleep?" Her voice was soft and any annoyance or attitude disappeared entirely. Wade regarded her in complete awkwardness, unsure how to process such a suggestion.

"Can you even sing?" He didn't mean to sound rude, but he didn't know what else to say.

She shrugged. "Depends on who you are."

His expression went blank. "Seriously. I'm Wade, duh. Who else would I be? Not the president."

"No, silly. I mean, everyone has an opinion but that doesn't necessarily make a thing true or false."

"Are you on drugs? You never just get deep like that."

"Actually, you'd be surprised how deep I can be. I just don't share my thoughts with you. And yes, technically I am on drugs." She waved her medication at him and he simply shook his head.

"You don't need to sing me a lullaby, I'm not an infant." He now bore a somewhat pouty expression, mixed with the typical tired one he always flaunted. Wade was just a tired guy. Skipper felt bad that she was the reason he'd grown even more exhausted recently, and she wanted to help by calming him so he could sleep. She was no expert, but she knew he probably had mild insomnia. Nothing serious, but it could be if he didn't try to get proper rest. She had long noticed how much time it took him to relax at night, to actually fall asleep and stay asleep. And maybe it was just because he was on the road and sleeping in strange places, but it wasn't treating him well.

So, against his protests and pleas and even snide mockeries, she started to hum the tune she so loved. Her voice might not be anything like her mother's, but it would have to suffice. She leaned against her seat, wrapped in the blanket with her eyes closed as she continued to hum the tune. Wade stared at her incredulously, his body growing rigid and awkward.

He tried to talk over her, to make her stop. Begging and pleading for silence. She slapped a hand over his mouth and continued to sing until he left the vehicle. This alarmed her, and she sat up immediately. Peered through the window to see him sitting by the vehicle. Just like that other night.

She decided not to bother him; rather, she'd wait for him to let off steam. Leaning back in her seat once more, she closed her eyes and hummed to herself under her breath. Even though it was her own voice, it was almost like her mother was there with her. Like she wasn't alone.

Her mother had been the only constant person in her life. When the cancer first hit, Mom was there to support her. And the next time. But this time was different. Mom was gone, and Skipper had to support herself. Though, when she thought about it, Wade was support in his own way. He was an average tired idiot, but he did have a heart and he definitely wasn't stupid. She knew he was something to be grateful for.

   Her thoughts were interrupted by Wade trying—and failing—to discreetly reenter the vehicle. He was sullen and wouldn't look in her direction, just lay there in his seat and kept his eyes closed. Skipper was still humming under her breath, and every now and then she lifted her soft voice octave by octave, until her singing was loud enough to be heard by the tired anteater daddy. As before, he stiffened. But he didn't shout this time, and he didn't tell her to shut up.

   And after awhile, he did indeed succumb to exhaustion. He fell asleep, completely relaxed. Skipper smiled to herself and continued humming, just for awhile longer to ensure he remained in a restful state.