Keep us comatose but audible

Forcing myself back into writing with the flash fiction business. It's about time. Honestly, you'd think my Honours thing will simply write itself in excellent style the way I've been floating around.

Prompt: Double prompt from Abbi's flash 'I hate myself' and a pic from my prompts file.

Characters: Kiley and Phoebe Marshall (Amped)
Timeline: About five months before ESM form
Word count: 1,439
Author’s comments: I don't know really. I wanted to show Kill as being grumpy and maybe a bit insolent, but when she realises her sister needs her, she's there for it. I'm beginning to think she really needs to be needed. She wants to solve everyone's problems even if she has no idea what they are or how to go about it. Probably why she can't leave Eric alone.

***

Kiley Marshall hated a lot of things. She hated the feel of wet grass under her bare feet. She hated the smell of vanilla, especially in cleaning products. She hated cinnamon sticks in her hot chocolate, and the smell of nail glue. She also hated driving at night. Driving in general wasn’t exactly one of her favourite things to do. In fact, she never even wanted to get her licence in the first place. Her dad had started nagging her about if before she was even legal, and like any good teenager, the more he carried on, the more she struggled against it. It wasn’t just misplaced teenage rebellion; her father was a terrible teacher. Kill was convinced sticking a needle in her eye would have been better than being trapped in a confined space with him while he gave vague instructions and then made that disapproving noise at the back of his throat when she invariably screwed up. The argument went on for weeks until finally, Phoebe offered to teach Kill herself.
“I don’t need a licence,” Kill had insisted, glowering at her sister.
“Oh come on, you never know when you might need it.”
“This is London Pheebs, it’s called public transport.”
Phoebe had just rolled her eyes and taken a course which Kill had thought to be entirely unfair.
“You’ll never be any use to a touring band without a licence.”
Kill had glowered at her sister, wanting to say that she wouldn’t be of use to one anyway, but she had recognised that look in Phoebe’s eyes. It was the one that meant business, the “resistance is futile!” look.
Of course, Phoebe never really got around to the actual teaching. Her job made her life pretty hectic, and she was always running from one place to the other, apparently never standing still. Kill had envied her that and with that reason, she had finally sucked it up and faced the torture her father dubbed ‘teaching’. In retrospect, it probably worked out for the better – half the time Phoebe’s driving was two minutes shy of a car wreck. That didn’t mean Kill enjoyed it, from the monotony to the traffic, it was hardly her idea of a good time.
“Jesus,” Kill muttered as a car rounded the corner, high beams momentarily blinding her. It was only a few seconds before they dimmed apologetically, after all who expected anyone to be on the road at 1am on a Thursday?
“Jesus,” she said again, swiping at a stray hair irritably as the wipers swiped at the rain. The rhythmic thud was almost hypnotic as the rubber drew bleary wet lines across the glass when any stray light fell across it. She sincerely hoped it wouldn't be like this all the way to bloody Birmingham. Birmingham! Kill sighed and turned up the music. It was going to be a long night.

~

Phoebe was sitting on the kerb when Kill arrived. She pulled up and was about to switch off the car, but before she could even move, Phoebe was already clambering into the passenger seat. Kill cocked her head.
“Err…Pheebs?”
“Just drive,” Phoebe replied with her eyes fixed firmly in front of her.
Kill sighed and rubbed her neck. “Do you think I could get some coffee – ”
“Please…please, I just want to get out of here.”
Phoebe’s voice broke slightly on the first word. Kill turned to really look at her, taking in her slumped posture, her blank face, the way her hair was plastered to her forehead and dripping slightly and she didn’t even seem to notice. She frowned, uncertain if she should say something or not. This was the indomitable Phoebe Marshall after all. Force of nature. The one with all the answers. Or at least, she had always had all the answers to Kill’s questions.
“Please.”
Kill bit her lip and shifted back into drive.

~

The caffeine rushed through her system almost immediately, and for the hundredth time in her short life, Kill thanked the illustrious god of the coffee plant. She brought the cup to her lips and just breathed deeply. It might be service station coffee, but goddamnit, it was coffee. After being dragged out of bed in the middle of the night on a cross country drive she sure as hell wasn’t going to be picky. She had grabbed a couple of Red Bulls for good measure too, and now stood in front of the plate glass window watching Phoebe dozing in the car. Well, Kill thought she was dozing. She could just be pretending so she could avoid talking, but that was hardly necessary, Kill had no idea what to say anyway. Still, she supposed she had to say something. She drowned the rest of her coffee in one go, and moved back to the car. Phoebe didn’t even stir as she slammed the door behind her.
“Red bull?” she asked, half-heartedly holding the can out to her sister. When no response was forthcoming, Kill sighed and placed the cans in the cup holders. She moved to turn the key in the ignition but stopped, turning in her seat to face her sister again.
“Pheebs?” she began, “Pheebs look at me please.”
Phoebe sniffled. “I’m trying to sleep here.”
“Yeah, funny thing, I was trying to do that not too long ago myself.”
Kill waited, but her sister seemed completely shut off. Taking a deep breath, she decided to go for the obvious.
“Phoebe, what happened?” she asked gently, resting a hand on her arm, “Did something happen with Van?”
Phoebe jerked upright like a current had run through her. She rounded on Kill, eyes burning. “I don’t want to talk about Van!”
Kill gaped at her, startled at the severity of the reaction. Before she could respond, Phoebe slumped back into her seat, looking so utterly defeated, Kill could hardly believe it was actually her sister.
“Just take me home Kiley, please” she mumbled, turning her face back to the window, “I just want to go home.”

~

Kill pulled up outside Phoebe’s apartment feeling utterly spent. It wasn’t just the five hours worth of driving in the middle of the bloody night that did it, it was the sense that her sister was falling apart and there was nothing she could do about it. They hadn’t spoken at all on the drive back into town and except for the brief exchange when Kill tried to convince Phoebe to come back home with her to which Pheebs had reacted violently against, there was nothing but a draining silence in the car. Kill had no idea what had happened and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Whatever it was, it had to have been bad. She’d never seen Phoebe like this, and she couldn’t even begin to imagine what could have led to it. All she knew was that she desperately wanted to take it away. Whatever was crushing her sister, she wanted to make it disappear and make sure it never came back. She had no idea how to do that though. If there was one thing Kill hated more than anything else, more than cinnamon sticks or vanilla or driving at night, it was feeling helpless. So when Phoebe eventually managed to get out of the car, and stumble along the path to her apartment block, all Kill could think to do was to run after her and just draw her into the biggest, tightest hug she could possible give. Phoebe seemed resistant at first, unwilling to be touched, but eventually she relented and allowed Kill to just hold on to her for a bit.
“Do you want me to stay?” Kill asked quietly.
“No.” Phoebe drew in a shaky breath, shaking her head slightly. “No, I just need space. And time. Time’s good.”
Kill pulled back to look at her. “Are you sure?”
Phoebe nodded.
“Call me, ok?”
Phoebe nodded again.
“Will you be – ” Kill began, but Pheebs interrupted, waving her hand.
“Fine, fine. Go. I’ll call.”
Kill took one last uncertain look at her before moving back to the car. She buckled her seatbelt and watched her sister’s form disappear into her apartment block. Taking a shaky breath of her own, Kill pulled away from the kerb. She ran two red lights on the way home, the last one earning her an angry beep from another driver. Kill found she didn’t care. She also didn’t care whether a licence made her more useful to a touring band. All she cared about was that for once she could actually be of some use to her sister. Huh, Kill thought as she finally pulled into the driveway, the ends justify the means. Who would have thought it?

Music: Good to know if I ever need attention - Brand New
Mood: Tired