Fifty-Nine (Danny); Cold Comfort.
The silence in the room after Amy leaves is suffocating. Tim Roth looks after her, like he's in two minds as to whether to follow Amy or to let her be. I know she likes time to herself and all, but you would have thought that Tim would realise that this is one of the times she most definately needs someone! I roll my eyes and get up, following Amy myself. Guess I can't be petty at a time like this... 'She's dating him, not me, let him go to her' is not a good philosophy right now.
"Amy?" I keep the edge of impatience in my voice just to sound normal and not like I'm worried sick about her which is the case. I push the door open and pull a slight face at the sight of Amy leaning over the toilet bowl -I've never been too good with invalids- but I walk in anyway, clicking the door shut behind me. It wouldn't do for someone to walk in on us, whatever we might be doing. And somehow I doubt we'll be doing anything, really. But I'm paranoid. So sue me. "Jesus Amy, leave your guts in..." I joke weakly as she gives a hacking choke. I crouch down beside her and gently put my arm around her. "C'mon," I hardly recognise my voice suddenly. An attempt at comfort. I haven't heard this in a long time. "Take it easy..." And eventually, thankfully, she does. She's shaking badly. I hand her a towel and pull the chain before I return to regarding her carefully. She's very pale, and she's got such deep blue hollows under her eyes that she might as well not have skin there. "Better?" I ask. She shrugs, and I sigh. "Amy-"
"Don't," she demands harshly, her voice tightly controlled and slightly husky from her earlier sickness. "Don't try and make it better."
"I wouldn't dream of it." I say, a sarcastic edge to my voice to take away the sudden feeling I get when she snaps at me. I'm about to add something scathing, when I see the tears in Amy's eyes. Oh shit... Once more I get the desperate urge to pull her into my arms and hold her, comfort her, reassure her it'll all be okay... But who am I trying to fool? How do I know it'll be okay? How do any of us know it'll be okay? There's a cute, trusting twenty-eight-year-old friend of ours that has apparently been kidnapped and no one has any idea by whom or for what purpose. How can I tell Amy it'll be okay when I don't believe it will be?
And besides. She's not mine to comfort. She's not mine to hold. She's not mine to whisper the lies of reassurance to. She's Roth's now. Not mine. She could never be mine... It's not my problem!
Oh for God's sake! Pull yourself together Elfman! I mentally put myself through the blender, and as the tears spill from her eyes, I pull Amy into my arms and hold her, whispering God-knows-what to her... Just to comfort her...
Chapter 58 ; Contents ; Chapter 60
