PARKER | Dark H.S. AU

xxvii. bye felicia, hello felicity

Copyright © zylgnagnaba 2014

Long fingers running through the ends of a curly blonde hair, rubbing the small of Charlie's back in the process. Head tilted on one side as it leans against Harry's broad shoulder. His hand does the continuous motion casually, soothing his friend's emotion as they both watch Felicia being loaded at the back of a blue, ratty pick-up truck.

Harry's head leans forward as he hears the sniffing sound that emitted from Charlie's nose, watching as she wipes the little moist above her lips. He then settles his chin on top of the blonde's head, arm extending around her frame to rub her dainty arm. Soft skin against his calloused one, the friction somehow making Charlie feel a little bit better.

"She's a good scooter, that one." Harry says, breaking the silence that once comforted Charlie's weary heart. But she decides that there's a better comfort in his words.

"We've had too many good memories with her, hadn't we?" She feels Harry's slight nod, affirming her claim. "You almost fell from the backseat when she bumped on a small pebble on the road." She says, chuckling just as slightly.

"It wasn't just a pebble. It was a big rock...thought it was a rat or something."

"A rat in the middle of the road. Okay, Aiden." The words are meant to agree with him but he doesn't miss the sarcasm that is laced with it. It's clear she was trying to make light of it and she's thankful that Harry's there with her to make the process more bearable for herself.

"She will be missed." He dismisses her words, taking in a sharp breath as Charlie finally stood straighter but is still within Harry's loose embrace...her shoulder leaning lazily against the side of his torso.

"My Felicia." Her lips jut out as she speaks. The way her voice cracks at the end makes Harry's heart squeeze a little.

She really does love that scooter.

Granted, it had been her only company day in and day out since her parents died and the small, yet cherished vehicle holds a sentimental value for Charlie. It was a gift from her parents on her sixteenth birthday right before they were taken away by accident. For years, it had been her only loyal friend. It was with Felicia that she was able to drive to work, delivered food to her customers, shown Harry around the city with. Unfortunately, all good things, even a scooter as Felicia, have an expiry date. What is more heartbreaking is for Charlie, Felicia was killed in a very awful and "inhumane" way. It would have been acceptable to her if Felicia's belch blew black smoke, led from her engine giving out. Or her wires went defective...or any possible reasons why a machine would stop working all of a sudden.

"Charlie," A gruff voice that belongs to Tony, a mechanic who Charlie has entrusted with Felicia, pulls her attention. "I'm really sorry. Here." His hand pulls Charlie's, followed by his other closed fist to place something -- a wad of cash -- on her palm.

"No, Tony. You need it more than I do. Keep it and just...you know what to do with her." Her heart breaks and she has to close her eyes to stop herself from tearing up again. Thinking of Felicia's fate -- her parts that may still work shall be segregated from the defectives and sold in a lower price, the other shall be dumped in the junk shop -- is such a morbid thought. She refuses to take the cash for she believes it will scar Felicia more, and she knows no price could ever amount to how much she really costs. She's priceless.

Tony nods solemnly and looks over his shoulder to glance at the heap of metal, rubber, and wires that lay helplessly at the back of his truck. Memories of Charlie riding Felicia towards his shop for monthly conditioning flashing before his eyes. He glances back to the blonde girl. Her expression vastly contrasts to those memories of her always smiling and spreading the aura around her environment even if he was having a tough day. Tony knows how much she values her red scooter. He had always known the connection between her and the machinery is quaint...it was so impossible to have that strange attachment to an object, but as he sees the brokenhearted girl, he knows Charlie values Felicia more than anything. It's the last thing she had that has a touch of her parents' memory after all -- besides the Gilbertson property.