Reaper's Touch

Gus: Baby

"Grief, I've learned, is really just love. It's all the love you want to give but cannot."
- unknown

Gus stared at the dusty ceiling fan over his head as it turned slowly, sending down a slight breeze so gentle it barely moved his hair. The room was sweltering. He was hot and sweaty and wished he could crank the fan up to full speed, but Hex kept saying she was freezing.

"Gus, turn up the heat again," she begged softly, wrapping both arms around herself.

Gus knew they were both crashing, but this was a symptom he had never encountered before. Hex had put on three layers and had the covers pulled up to her chin, but nothing seemed to warm her.

"It's too hot to fuck with that thermostat again. Just hold on," Gus said frustratedly.

He stood up on the bed and lifted his hand to the ceiling. Sure enough, the warm air was trapped at the top of the room. The fan's direction would have to be changed to send it down.

"Compromise," Gus said as he set the fan in the right direction and cranked it to the highest setting.

"No, turn that thing off! How is a fan gonna help me besides making me even colder!" Hex snapped.

"Because turning it clockwise pushes the heat down," Gus said. "I promise. Trust me. Feel it?"

Hex nodded grudgingly after a few seconds. "Where did you learn that?"

"Jeff showed me," Gus said quietly, and even saying that name made him want to cry.

In the silence that followed it, he could hear Hex's teeth chattering as he laid back down beside her.

"Come 'ere, pretty little snowflake," Gus murmured.

Hex scooted herself over to Gus with her feet. Then she curled into his embrace and pressed her nose against his chest.

"I don't feel right," she said.

"You'll be okay," Gus assured her. "Just try to go to sleep."

"I-I'm s-s-so c-c-c-cold," she whimpered quietly.

It was still Gus's birthday, but he didn't want to think about it. It had been another shitty one to add to the list. The only good thing was the feeling of Hex's warm body in his arms. She was all he really needed after all.

"What's wrong?" Hex asked through her shivers.

Gus shook his head. He hadn't told Hex what Lucas had said to him today. The wound was too fresh, and it hurt too much to think about, but that's all he was doing. Every word repeated itself in his mind. Fucked up in the head. Too small. Mentally ill. Semi-retarded. Retarded. Retard.

"Nothin'," Gus said.

"You've been so quiet since they left," Hex said.

"Lucas just gave me some things to think about," he mumbled.

"About what?"

"The baby."

"Well? What about it?"

"Nothin'. It's not important."

Gus kissed Hex's forehead, where a few stray red hairs had found a home after coming loose from their curls. Her hair didn't smell like meth. It smelled like flowery shampoo, like always. Gus couldn't smell what Lucas had said he'd smelled. And sure, the room was messy... but they'd clean it...

"Hex, this place is disgusting. We gotta clean after we crash," Gus said.

Hex looked around. "The mess suddenly bothers you?"