A Rocker's Melody (Dust and Bones)(46)

"Apparently, some of you still are," she snapped, then immediately  regretted both her callous words and her tone. She hugged his forearm in  apology. "I didn't mean-"

"Yeah, you did," he said. "And you have every right to say that. I'm  pissed at them, too. I'm pissed at Snake for dying. I'm pissed at Dylan  for getting in that car when he should have known better. And I'm pissed  at all of us, for not doing more for Snake when we had the chance. It's  just … I don't think we wanted to admit how far gone he was, because … "

"Because then you might have to hold up a mirror," she murmured. "It's  always easier to ignore the ugly parts of yourself if you refuse to  recognize them in others."

He glanced down at her, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. "Speaking from experience, Big Red?"

"I'm just really bad at being a girl," she muttered. "I mean, when it  comes to female friendships. That's why I like you guys. It's easier.  But I didn't get along with Serena or anyone in my old band, because...I  guess because when I saw them, I saw everything I didn't want to be,  everything that I feared I was actually becoming. Because I'm just shit  at being a girl."

"Dylan would probably disagree with you there," Tank noted.

Melody sucked in an unsteady breath. "Then he damn well better pull through so he can argue with me about it."

"An argument with a beautiful woman. That's the kind of thing a man  claws his way back from death to experience." Tank squeezed her shoulder  again, and she prayed to everything she believed in that he was right.

**

Hop arrived an hour after the news broke. He stormed into the waiting  room, made a beeline for Melody, and wrapped her in his strong arms.  Standing there, hugging her father, was the closest she had come to  crying since she had first heard the news.

"Why in the ever loving hell didn't you call me?" he muttered against her temple.

"Because I wanted to call with good news," she confessed. "I didn't want to...I didn't know how to say it out loud, otherwise."

"Shitty excuse," he said, squeezing her tighter. "What do you need? Coffee? Valium? I'm sure they've got both in this place."

Melody laughed, and even though the sound was strained, it felt like a  small weight was lifting from her chest. "I'll take one of whatever  you're having."

Hop turned back around and headed for the cafeteria. Moments after he  left, Tank re-entered the waiting room. He had just gotten off the phone  with Jesper. "Grace's plane landed safely, and they're on their way  back here," he said, as he sat down beside Melody again. "They'll be  here within the hour."

Melody nodded. "No news yet on our end. He's still in surgery."         

     



 

"Christ, I don't know if it's good or bad that they're keeping him under the knife so long," Tank muttered.

"It's good," she insisted. "It means they think they can make him  better." That's what I have to believe if I have any hope of retaining  an ounce of my sanity.

They lapsed into silence again. Hop soon returned, bearing steaming cups  of coffee with him. It was burnt and terrible, but they all drank it  anyway, grateful for the caffeine boost. They sat close together and  talked quietly to pass the time; Tank reminisced about the early days of  the band. Hop shared some of the fond memories he had of Snake, back  when the boys had first been signed. Melody only listened with half an  ear, unable to bring herself to speak of her happy memories with Dylan  and the band.

Within the hour, Grace arrived. She entered the waiting room  alone-Jesper was probably parking-and Melody was struck by how small and  frail she looked. She held herself like she might break at any moment,  her arms folded tight around her middle. Melody got up to meet her.

"Before you say anything, I just have to get one thing out of my system,  and after that I promise I'll leave you alone," Grace said, looking  Melody straight in the eye. "I know my brother has a lot of demons. I  know he can be a colossal pain in the ass. I know he's probably given  you good reason to cut your losses and run. But please, if you're  considering writing him off-don't. Because he loves you so much."

Melody felt the first crack in the armor she'd built around herself.  "I'm sorry. I wish I'd never pushed him to see your dad. I just wanted … I  wanted him to be happy."

Grace took Melody's arm and sat her back down. She placed a gentle hand  on her shoulder. How could she still manage to be so strong at a time  like this? "I knew you were going to do this to yourself," she muttered.  "Don't worry. He's tough; he'll pull through. But he's going to need  you when he does."

"He has me," Melody vowed.

Grace smiled. "Good. Then everything's going to be fine. Forgive  yourself, sweetie. Life's too short to hold grudges, especially against  yourself."

"What the hell is she doing here?"

An angry, disbelieving voice cracked through the room, and all eyes  turned to the door by the nurses' station. Rip had finally arrived, and  he was glaring at Melody with eyes filled to the brim with fury and  hatred. Apparently, he hadn't gotten the pep talk about grudges yet.

"Lay off, man," Tank muttered. "You can't possibly-"

"Don't tell me what I can't fucking do," Rip seethed. "She's the reason  all of this is happening! Do you really think Snake would have been in  that car if she hadn't screwed Dylan up, first?"

"You watch your goddamn tongue," Hop growled, standing up swiftly.

"Just leave it alone, Dad," Melody said, her voice tired and strained.  "Apparently I'm to blame for every bad thing that's ever happened to  Dust and Bones, even the stuff that started long before I joined. I  don't care anymore. Let him think what he wants."

"He can think anything he wants," Hop agreed, "as long as he keeps his mouth shut."

"What are you going to do, threaten the band some more?" Rip asked,  glaring at Hop. "You were perfectly happy watching us self-destruct back  when it wasn't hurting your bottom line."

"You weren't self-destructing until recently," Hop argued. "You don't  want to have this conversation with me, son. I promise you won't like  the outcome."

"Like I give a shit anymore," Rip said, his voice breaking. "After what I've lost today, there's nothing left for you to take."

Tank stood quickly and pulled at Rip's arm. "You know what, we're done here. Let's go for a walk."

"I'm not letting her run me out of here," Rip said, yanking his arm from  Tank's grasp and gesturing wildly at Melody. "She's the one who has no  right to be here. That's my brother in there."

"No, it's my brother," Grace snapped. "You're just the idiots who've  spent the last decade showing him more efficient ways to flush his life  down the toilet."

"You've haven't even been around for the last decade," Rip scoffed. "You  were so busy … " He trailed off, a look of shame crossing his face. Grace  looked stricken.

"That's enough." Another voice, a voice of calm and reason, reached  them. It was Jesper. Level though his tone might be, Melody could see he  was radiating barely-controlled rage. He walked into the room and  approached Grace, his eyes swimming with pain as he looked down at her.         

     



 

"I owe Dylan more than you will ever know," he told her. "I know what  the two of you went through, and I know how much you're hurting. But you  have to understand that you're not the only one who loves him. I love  him like a brother, and so does Rip. It's just that not all of us are as  good at keeping our emotions under control as you are."

Tears began streaming down Grace's face, and she nodded stiffly. Jesper turned to Rip next, pinning him with a glare.

"This was an accident. It is nobody's fault," Jesper told him, "least of  all Melody's. Snake didn't listen to anyone but Snake. He did whatever  he damn well wanted to do-he lived his life with passion and aggression.  He was determined to go out with a bang, and he did. The only thing we  can hope for now is that he doesn't take Dylan with him."

Rip looked like he would have loved to argue, but it seemed that he  didn't have the energy. He hurled himself into a nearby chair and  crossed his arms, glowering down at the tiled floor.

Jesper looked at Melody. "You know this isn't your fault." It was a statement rather than a question.

"On some level, I do know that," she conceded. He opened his mouth to  say more, but she shook her head. "That's as much as you're getting from  me right now. I don't want any pep talks; I just want Dylan to get  better."

"We all do," Jesper said softly. He sat down next to her, settling in to wait.

Three hours later, the doctor approached them, still wearing her scrubs. And she was smiling.