Finding Answers

A Little Crazy

Jake

Little note,
Set down to rest
On this broken melody
So that your contribution
Will fit the whole song.

If not
Then it's listeners
Will be forever missing
A part
Unknown.

--

He. Wouldn't. Stop. Screaming.

"TONY PLEASE!"

But before I even mentioned those few words, that the knowledge was already understood, I knew that all those gears in his machine would stop turning and all that could happen left would be a malfunction in his system.

Enveloping my body across his, Tony screamed into my shirt and pierced his nails against my hips. With every movement made, they would only dig deeper and deeper until he knew I would plant myself in that single spot and not choose to breathe a single breath.

It didn't happen all at once. Slowly, his voice started to croak and whimper, letting me know that finally, his lungs were giving in and he was giving it up.

What could I do? Oh, I wish it was just as easy as TV, but of course, only fictional characters could easily calm a fictional panic attack in ten seconds flat.

So I said the only thing that could come to mind.

"It's muscle you're talking about."

He didn't respond.

So, as idiotic, as uneasy, as not-really-great-with-socially-comforting-someone-correctly like I was, I continued talking.

"Y-you were making fun of my strength by commenting on my w-weight. But you meant to," silently, I swallowed, "you meant to say it about my muscular figure. Which I d-don't have."

For a minute, I thought he would have accepted my out-of-the-blue statement as reassurance. That we could just take push this aside and forget the whole conversation, because honestly, Tony has a gift for doing such a task. But of course, I never seem to get what I want.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he sounded as though he swallowed a cup of gravel. "Did he...you know--"

Immediately, I ripped his claws away from my body, "What? You really think I would let that happen?"

There he sat, arms looking for a warmth that wasn't provided, eyes glazed with a white overcoat, tears silently tainting his cheeks a rosy, burning glow.

Yeah, he really thought I would.

My throat could only utter a whisper, "He...he didn't."

Oh, but he had many occasions to do so. For as long as I can remember, Tony was a chill I just couldn't cover up. He invades my warmth one way or another; at the worst times and the best. But sometimes, I find a jacket big enough to block him away.

They schedule Tony's departures, I'm sure of that. When he's gone, Gordon and his friends come along as if it's a planned meeting.

"Jake..."

He was practically trembling in his spot, squishing the kangaroo hard enough to burst out the stuffing.

When Tony presented that ugly toy to be, I was ecstatic. It was everything I ever wanted. At times, even glancing at it brings chills down my spine, but now seeing the thing, I'm glad that I was obsessed with that certain animal at the time. It brings me comfort; restraining me from doing things that I would never do with Tony in the room. The amount of times that thing has provided me with another chance is insanely high.