Peppermint And Gunpowder

Chapter Twenty-Nine: I Am Not Crazy

I shiver. Not the blanket nor Poison's warmth is enough--the warm bliss I'd fallen asleep to hours earlier a dream. That's the odd thing about the desert; during the day it's hotter than hell, but at night the temperature drops so drastically it's possible to die from hypothermia.

"Poison?" I say, though I'm not sure if I'm talking to him or the darkness. "Do you hear that?"

I sit up, the blanket falling by my waist, cold seeping into my bones.

Poison turns, murmuring incoherently in his sleep. His red hair is tousled, the colour muted by darkness.

"Do you hear that?" I ask again, this time shaking his shoulder lightly. "Poison, wake up."

"What is it?" His voice is sleepy and his eyes don't even open.

"Do you hear that?" I ask, more frantic than before."

"Hear what?" He sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes and running a hand through his hair. His right hand braces his weight behind him on the bed, his left falls from his face and rests on my leg.

"The baby!" I look around the room, seeing nothing but sleeping figures and moonlit windows coated by grime. It gets louder and louder.

"There's no baby here, Mercury." He looks at me with confused eyes. I pause.

"Do you not hear her cries?" I grasp his hand. Surely he's gone deaf, how could he not hear her cries?

"There's no baby here, Mercury. No one's crying. You're dreaming, just lay back down, I'll lay with you." He moves to lay down and tries to pull me with him. I swat his hand away.

"No!" I look around the room, my eyes adjusting to the dark better than before and praying to see something hidden in the darkness.

Poison sits up again, shushing me softly. He rubs my back lightly, fingers trilling up and down my spine. He cups my cheek, flicking away wisps of hair sticking to my temple.

Mindlessly, I fling my legs onto the cool floor, the soles of my feet sticking to the wood as I walk toward the bathroom. Poison calls after me, standing and chasing after me. Poison worrying about noise and not waking the others, while I frantically look about for the wailing baby.

I open the bathroom door and flick the light on, scanning the small room. I grip the porcelain tub, half expecting a baby curled within. There is nothing but yellowed sides and small containers of soap and cleaning items.

I turn to leave the bathroom, the baby's cries louder than before. Poison stands in the doorway, blocking my way.

"Poison, move." I try to push him out of the way, but he doesn't flinch. He's stronger than I, but I try nonetheless.

"Mercury, please calm down." He wraps his arms around my body, not in a hug but in a restrain. "Please calm down."

I fight against his arms, but he doesn't let go.

"How can you not hear her? She's crying so loud!" I pound my fists against his chest but he doesn't flinch--none of my fighting works, yet I press on.

"Mercury, there's no baby." He holds tighter, if possible, and pulls me down to the floor.

We crouch on the bathroom floor, a jumble of limbs, as Poison restrains me for many moments. My body releases of all tension and I fall against his chest. And as I lose tension, the wails die to a mere whimper.

I pant heavily, the adrenaline I didn't realize I had that pulsed through my veins, replacing my blood and coursed through my body, disappeared and I was left a mess.

"Mercury?" Poison whispers into my ear, nose and lips grazing my cheek and burying into my hair. "Are you alright?"

"Yes..." I rest my entire weight against Poison, doing nothing but breathing. "How did you not hear her?"

"Hear who?" He asks.

"The baby... she needed help, I couldn't find her... I looked and looked and looked, but I couldn't find her. What if she's hurt?" A wad of cotton forms in my throat, talking and even breathing becoming nearly impossible.

"I'm sure she's alright." Poison says, but I do not believe him--he didn't hear her, how could he know if she is alright? He must be saying it to assure and comfort me, not the baby whose location remains secret and cries no longer echo through the house.

How did no one else hear? If they were like Poison and couldn't hear her, why didn't they wake with my frantic running about the house?

Poison drops his arms, laying his hands on my legs securely with my head still pressed to his shoulder.

"You're drenched in sweat," Poison murmurs. "Did you even change out of that shirt when you got home?"

"I don't remember." I respond, suddenly ashamed of the fact that I simply can't remember whether or not I changed my shirt.

"Stay here, I'll be back." He stands while I stay cross legged on the tiled floor. He looks at me wearily, contemplating if I am stable enough to be alone. "Don't do anything, alright? I'll be right back, only a minute, okay?"

He looks at me as if I was mad. I'm not crazy, I know I'm not, but I cannot shake the look in his eyes.

Just as he'd promised, he returns a moment later with a dark bundle of fabric in his hand.

"Put this on," He hands me the bundle and I realize it is one of his shirts. "I'll wait outside."

He steps out and closes the door but I know he does not leave--his receding footsteps do not slip under the door. There are no footsteps, so he does not move.

I remove my own sweat-covered shirt and toss it on the side of the porcelain tub and pull Poison's shirt over my head.

The fabric is baggy, smelling heavily of soap and cigarettes--a smell that is distinctly him.

Picking up the other shirt, I open the door. Just as I'd thought, Poison was leaning against the frame, staring at nothing. He smiles when he sees me, but does not speak. He takes my shirt and places it in a pile of laundry.

I do not sleep alone, for Poison's arms are wrapped so tightly around me that I almost cannot breathe, but I have never felt as safe as I did in that very moment.

The room is silent once again, no baby's cries echoing off the walls--nothing but Poison's soft breathing and the slight movement of the others.