A Spaceman

Chapter 20--Stayin' Alive

I wake up to the feeling of cold little fingers poking my cheek. I roll over a little, because I feel very heavy and dead with sleep and it does not compute in my brain who would be poking me awake. Then I feel a woman's warm hand on my face and remember where I am. In my flat. Without legs. With this fabulous girl and strange little child.

"He's still alive," Jo assures Lizzie, as I sit up.

"Yes, I am," I say, opening my eyes to see the little girl standing over me, looking concerned. She's wearing a full winter coat, and her blonde hair is messy around her face. "You need to brush your hair, nutcase."

"No," she grunts, putting her hands over her head.

"You hungry?" Jo asks, sitting up, pulling up the sheets to wrap around her bare chest. I slide my hand over subtly to touch the smooth skin of her back. She smiles a little.

"I guess," Lizzie keeps staring at us.

"I gotta get up and put my legs on, you want to go and see what my mum's put in the kitchen that's edible?" I ask.

"Okay," Lizzie says, slowly backing out of the room.

"I thought she'd be less crazy by the light of day," I comment, sitting up fully now, and moving to find our clothes which we discarded on the floor like adolescents, after having maturely put Lizzie to bed in the only actual bed. We were on the sofa in the living room.

"She's pretty messed up, still hasn't told us what happened to her before that dude got her," Jo says, taking the clothes which I hand her.

"That's sad," I say, shaking my head, "She knows we're here. she'll say when she's ready."

"Yeah, I hope," Jo says, standing up to get dressed. She notices me still sitting, of course, my legs aren't on I can't stand up and get dressed. The legs are lying on the floor by the bed. my stumps are still raw and a bit bloodied from wearing them all day yesterday.

"There's a box of sweets," Lizzie says, coming back in carrying said box. I, for my part, pull the blankets back over my half-dressed, scarred body.

"Good, go ahead and have one and get plates out, all right? I've got to put my legs on," I say, as she sits down on the floor apparently going to eat.

"Okay," she says, standing up slowly. She's been especially quiet since last. I think she knows Jo's badass friend killed the guy who hurt her.

(are you sure he's dead)

(yes I'm very sure) she called and told Jo it was over and she would dispose of the body all right by herself.

(okay)

"If I have plates," I mutter, picking up my shirt and putting it on.

"I'll help, I'm sure your mum brought plates," Jo says, picking up the box and handing Lizzie another pastry to eat as she stands up.

"She said she was terribly forgetful getting me stuff I told her 'good 'cause I didn't want you to get me anything---ah—" I stop myself from saying fuck it. Lizzie has gone over to look out the window. I decided against ever trying to put my legs on, instead pulling on my shorts underneath the blankets. I'll just use my wheelchair for a few hours I need to rest my legs anyway.

"You okay?" Jo asks, she was trying to steer Lizzie away from the window without upsetting her but she stops when she sees me pulling myself into my chair which I actually left close enough to the couch for me to get into.

"I'm fine, it hurts too much to put those things on," I say, nodding to Lizzie, "Come on, let's go in the kitchen and eat like civilized people, eh?"