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Don't Close Your Eyes	By : TaimaMarie Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 3703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of HIM. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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AN: Wow, thank you all for reading this. Here's another bit to make you happy!

“Mmm, pass me your fries.” Hayley nudged Ville. He gave her a look, raising an eyebrow.

“Since when did the food on my plate become your property?”

“Since we became best friends.” She looked at him as though he’d just lost his mind. “Duh. What’s yours is mine and what’s mine is also mine.” She leaned over and relieved him of a few potatoes.

“You’ve eaten half my lunch since kindergarten.” Ville griped.

“That’s because I’ve been your body guard since kindergarten, twig boy.” Hayley poked him in his pencil thin arm, chewing thoughtfully.
“These don’t have enough salt.”

“Oh, forgive me. Next time I’ll season my food to your liking.”

“See that you do!” she laughed. Ville draped his arm over her shoulders.

He’d met the bubbly girl the first day of kindergarten. He’d been sitting in the sandbox. Never before had he been separated from his mother for a whole day, let alone thrown into a room with a bunch of other children his age.

The young ones seemed to have the ability to smell fear. They jeered at Ville, sneering at his long hair and his heavy accent. And so he’d hidden himself here in the sandbox.

Sniffling as he was, he didn’t notice the short girl with long brown hair sidle up to him. She watched him crying with interest before plopping down in the sand. He shied away from her, but she didn’t seem to be noticing him at all.

She set about covering the knees of her corduroy pants with sand. Ville stopped sniffling, interested in what she was doing. He crawled closer to her.

“You know, if you didn’t cry they wouldn’t pick on you. It wouldn’t be as much fun.” She said matter of factly. Ville blinked.
“I can get them to leave you alone,” she wrinkled her nose as she examined Ville. “You’re pretty small, so they’ll try and get to you anyway.”

“Thanks,” he muttered. She patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s not your fault. I’m Hayley.”

“I’m Ville,”

“Ville?” she stumbled over it. “That’s a pretty name. Where are you from?”

“Finland,” he muttered.

“Oh. Wanna go play on the swings?” she stood up and brushed off her pants. Ville nodded and obediently followed her.

True to her word, the feisty girl had managed to scare off all the other boys. This was a role she would keep, even in their junior year of high school. Now Ville leaned over and gave Hayley a kiss on the cheek.

“I like your face so much better when you didn’t insist on dusting it,” he sighed, wiping off the powder that coated her like a layer of sugar on a doughnut. She scowled at him.

“It’s part of my look.” She patted her cheek.

“Like the black nail polish? Like chopping off all your pretty hair and dying it flame red? Like wearing those damn contacts?”

“The contacts were my choice.” Hayley touched her eyebrows. She’d had lovely gray eyes, but a few weeks ago, she’d announced that she was tired of them and had appeared with color contacts in chocolate brown.

“Whatever,” he bent and examined her ears. “Your piercings are healing nicely.”

“Thanks.” She’d just had second holes put in her cartilage. She popped another fry in her mouth. Before either of them could say anything else, Mige, Hayley’s boyfriend and Ville’s best guy friend came and plopped down next to her. He too claimed one of Ville’s fries.

“Will I ever get to eat my own food?” he demanded, pulling his tray closer to his chest. They both shook their heads.

“No, did you really think you would?” Hayley sounded shocked.

“What’s mine is hers and what’s hers is also hers, except when it comes to your food. That’s mine, too.” Mige rationalized. Ville groaned and put his head down on the lunch table.

“So you never did say,” the girl tore her corn bread in half and gave some Ville, probably to placate him about the fries. “What happened at your skate practice on Saturday? I called you all day and you never answered.” She examined her friend carefully.
“Did you finally talk to him?”

“Him?” Mige repeated dumbly. “Am I missing something?” a few of their other friends had started to drift over.

“Our little Ville’s been drooling over some hockey player for about two months now. He won’t let me stop over to rink to check him out though.” Hayley pouted.

“Now, sweetheart, you promised to stop meddling in people’s love lives.” Mige scolded.

“Well, I don’t see why! I’m a damn good matchmaker. Didn’t the janitor and the librarian love each other?” she protested. Ville and Mige exchanged a look.

“They loved each other so much that we walked in on them er, loving all over the reference desk.”

“Yeah,” Mige chimed in. “And then she had to take that ‘vacation’ when he finally went back to his wife.”

“Okay, okay, so maybe I didn’t think that all the way through.” Hayley conceded. “But I know I wouldn’t make that mistake this time. Please, Ville?”

“Gee, if you had your real eyes instead of those cheap contacts, maybe your puppy dog look would work.” Ville picked up his tray.
“I’ve got to get a move on. I’ll talk to you guys later.”

**

“Ugh,” Bam finally opened his eyes. He tried to sit out, but a screaming pain in his side knocked him back onto is back.
“What the hell?”

“Oh, good. You’re awake.” April was sitting in a chair beside his bed, reading a magazine.

“How’d the scrimmage end? Did we win?” Bam rubbed his eyes. April stared at her son incredulously.

“Did you seriously just ask me about that stupid game? When you’re laying here in a hospital bed?”

“Did we win?” Bam persisted.

“Gee, I don’t know. It wasn’t the first thing on my mind, what with you being here unconscious with a broken rib.”

“Shit, seriously?” Bam felt his side again. Sure enough there was gauze taped around his middle.

“You’re lucky you didn’t puncture one of your lungs. The doctor said that moving around too much is going to painful for the next little while.” April sighed and rubbed her temples.
“When I think of all the horrible things that could have happened to you.”

“All the things that didn’t happen to me.” Bam sighed. They’d had this fight so many times before. It was all an old song.
“I’m okay.”

“You’re not okay! Do you know what might have happened? Can you even comprehend the surgery? The procedures? Do you have any idea how scared I was, Brandon?” it was rare that she called him by his birth name, and he had the grace to go quiet.

“Well, I’m sorry, Ape. I didn’t do it to worry you.”

“Bam, honey, we need to talk.” She covered her son’s hand with hers. “But let’s wait until Phil gets back, okay? He went to go and get some lunch.”

“Then as soon as he buys out McDonald’s, he’ll be back.” Bam smirked, hoping she didn’t hear the pounding in his chest.

***

“We don’t think you should play hockey anymore, Bam.” Phil said bluntly as soon as he’d arranged himself in a chair. Bam appreciated that about his father; he was to the point and didn’t try to sugar coat things the way Ape did.

“What?” he cried. “No, no you can’t do that!” tears rose in the sixteen year old’s eyes.

“We can and we have.” April said softly. “I knew that game was too dangerous for you. You were lucky this time. The doctor said you could have punctured your lungs or any number of internal organs.”

“Well the burly player from hell isn’t going to crash into me every game, is he?” Bam fairly shouted. “That was just this game.”

“Sweetie, lower your voice.” April reached for her son. He jerked away and her eyes closed. She wasn’t surprised; she and her husband had anticipated this sort or reaction.

“Do you expect me not to be upset? You’re taking away the one thing I care about!” Bam thundered. Phil remained silent. He was uncomfortable in emotional situations like this.

“I know you’re upset, but this is for your health, don’t you see? It’s just too dangerous. There’s nothing you can say or do that’s going to make me change my mind, you know that.” It was true. April was just as stubborn as her son when she set her mind to something.

“Please don’t do this!” he pleaded. Phil glanced at Ape and bit the inside of his cheek.
“Please! Please say that I can again. I promise I’ll be so careful, nothing like this will ever happen again! I promise, promise promise!” he was almost in tears.

“Bam, honey, begging isn’t going to make me change my mind. I know you love hockey, I understand that, but I don’t think you understand how dangerous it is.”

“I do understand, I do!” he was getting frantic. “I just want to skate. He grabbed her hand and held it close to his chest. “Please Mom? I just want to skate. Please, Mom?”

That was hitting a spot. He hadn’t called her Mom in years. Ever since eighth grade it had been ‘Ape’. She shook her head slowly.

“I’m sorry, Bam. The answer is no.”

He closed his eyes, trying to hide the shameful tears that were threatening to course down his face. Ape bent and kissed his forehead.

“They’re keeping you for another night of observation. We’ll leave you to get some sleep, okay?” she didn’t wait for his answer. Phil awkwardly patted his hand as he trailed behind is wife.
“Shit,” she cursed as she leaned against the wall outside his room.

“We have to do this, Ape.”

“I just hate telling him no when it comes to something that’s this important to him. That’s all.”

“I know, I know.” He took her hand in his. “Come on, let’s go home.”
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Don't Close Your Eyes