Lost in Hollywood

This Awful, Unjust World

The air in Sky's room was thick with the smell of blood. It coated Hawk's tongue the moment he entered, and the taste of iron made his stomach turn.

Sky was lying on the bed, curled up in a ball, hugging her knees tight against her chest. She was still wearing the same clothes as a couple of hours ago when they had talked in the school parking lot - that now felt like it had happened in another lifetime - but now her black band T-shirt and her jeans were soaked in blood that had glued them to her body. Her arms and her hands were covered with a thick, dark red layer, but he couldn't see her face.

"Sky—" he rasped, walking closer. 

She didn't react. Her eyes were closed, her body was tense as a string, trembling, and her breathing came in short, shallow gasps and sobs.

Trying to swallow the lump in his throat, Hawk carefully sat on the bed. His heartbeat was ticking fast and nervous in his throat, as if he'd swallowed a watch.

"Sky, I heard— what happened. That Cody—" his voice broke. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry— I never meant— I didn't mean for this to happen—"

A broken cry left Sky's lips, a desperate wail. She pulled her knees tighter against her chest and hid her face against them.

"You— hated him—"

They were barely more than a sob but Hawk felt those words as an arrow through his heart.

Yeah, he had hated Cody, but— but— that didn't mean he had wanted this to happen. He had never wanted Cody to die. Not even that awful day when they had fought in the bathroom—

He stopped that thought before it could take a proper form. He didn't want to remember the rage in his chest, the sharp taste of violence, the color of Cody's blood against the pale green floor tiles. He wasn't that guy anymore, hadn't been in a long time.

"I was just jealous," he groaned. "I was stupid— and jealous because I thought you loved him. I never— I didn't even know him, not really. I didn't— I didn't want him to die."

"He— his head— he shot himself." Sky whimpered. "He's dead. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him."

"No, Sky, no you didn't. You didn't kill him. You couldn't have known— it's not your fault."

But his chest clenched tight and heavy at her words because he remembered how that felt, to know in his heart that he had been the cause of Sky's suicide attempt when everyone else told him it wasn't his fault. And no matter what he now told Sky, no matter his words of comfort, he knew that she had a point. Cody was dead because of what they had done— when he had kissed Sky and had sex with her on the couch that day, he had started this, and if it was Sky's fault that Cody was dead, it was his fault too. They had done this together.

I'm a murderer. I killed him.

He pushed that thought away. Too heavy, too awful. If this was his fault, he would face that guilt later, he would deal with that crap another day. His guilt could wait, his punishment. Today he had only one purpose - to help Sky - and he needed to keep his shit together to be able to do that.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said after a short silence, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'll help you. It'll make you feel better."

She didn't answer. Her sobs were ragged, broken, painful. Her whole body was trembling under his touch, and in her clenched fist, she was gripping something—

Hawk's chest went tight with a rush of emotion as he realized she was holding the pendant Cody had given her, the one she had worn all the time when they'd been dating. It had some kind of a book quote - Hawk couldn't remember which one, he could only remember the sharp, bitter jealousy he had felt when seeing the pendant resting on Sky's skin. He had thought she had gotten rid of the thing after the breakup, but apparently not, because there it was, in her tight grip, the chain that ran through her fingers covered with thick, clotted blood.