Whipped - Drake Merwin x OC

Metamorphasis

The food seemed almost to crush the tables.

Turkey and dressing, cranberry sauce, and the biggest collection of pies Sam had ever seen.       The tables were set up first at the south end of the plaza. But then Albert realized that people didn't want to be away from the rows of graves at the north end, they wanted to stay near them.

The dead were to be included in this Thanksgiving.      

They ate off paper plates and used plastic forks, sat on the few chairs or on the grass.      

There was laughter.      

There were sniffles, and tears as well, as people remembered Thanksgivings past.      

There was music from a stereo system rigged up by Computer Jack.      

Lana had worked around the clock for days to heal everyone who could be  healed. Dahra had been at her side, organizing, prioritizing the worst cases, handing out support and pain pills to those who had to wait. 

Cookie had missed the fight entirely, but had become Dahra's faithful nurse, using his size and strength to lift the injured.      

Mary brought the prees out for the big feast. She and her brother, John, prepared plates for them, spoon-fed some of them, and changed  diapers on blankets spread on the grass.      

Orc sat with Howard in a corner by themselves. Orc had fought Drake to a standstill. But no one—least of all Orc—had forgotten Bette, who
miraculously survived. Bette still wouldn't divulge the secret of how she'd been healed.

The plaza was a disaster. The burned apartment building was a wreck. 

The church had only three walls now, and the steeple would probably topple over if there was ever a storm.      

They had burned the dead coyotes. Their ashes and bones filled several large trash cans.      

Sam watched it all, standing a little apart, balancing a plate of food and trying not to spill the dressing.      

"Astrid, tell me if this is crazy: I'm thinking if there are any leftovers, we could send them up to Coates," Sam said. "You know, a peace offering."      

"No. Not crazy," she said.

"You know, I've had this plan in mind for a while," Sam said.      

"What plan?"      

"It involved you and me just sitting on the beach."      

"Just sitting?"      

"Well..."      

"He says, allowing his elliptical tone to imply any number of things."      

Sam smiled. "I'm all about elliptical implications."      

"Are you going to tell me what happened during the big blink?"      

"I am. I will. Maybe not today." He nodded toward Little Pete, who hunched over a plate of food and rocked back and forth. "I'm glad he's okay."      

"Yeah," Astrid said shortly. Then, "I think the injury, the blow to his head...oh, never mind. Let's not talk about Petey for once. Give your  speech and then let's go and see if you even know what 'elliptical'  means."      

"My speech?"      

"Everyone's waiting," she said.      

Sure enough, he realized, there were expectant glances in his direction and a feeling of unfinished business in the air.