Kiss

Time had stopped. May left her body and looked down at the scene; her beloved step-dad lying spread-eagle next to an upside down bag of granola, herself, kneeling pitiably, and HIM, standing over her with the face of a megalomaniac.

May thought she would scream but it came out as a whisper. "I hate you."

The Caretaker's expression changed to pensive.

May closed her fist around his right wrist. "Caretaker, that's what you're supposed to be, right? TAKE CARE OF ME."

He let out a tiny sigh. "I suppose I don't want Boss to ticket me over this."

The Caretaker knelt beside May and placed a hand on her father's motionless ankle. He closed his eyes.

This time it hurt.

May felt her feet hit solid ground. There was a sharp pain above her temple, and then nothing.

"May. MAY. Are you awake?"

Somewhere, Ray was calling her. She didn't want to wake up.

"May! Your dad is ok. Can you hear me? He's been admitted. His lungs are not doing well but he's alive."

Her dad. May's eyes flew open.

Ray was bending over her looking sweaty and concerned. She felt his hand on hers. Her mouth was dry.

"Hey," Ray said with relief. "You're alright too, just stress."

May registered that she was in the hospital for the second time that week. She sat up with effort. "My dad--he's alright?"

"Yes," Ray said. May knew the unspoken next words were, "maybe not for long."

"He's across the hall from my dad."

May felt the pressure of his fingers. "My mom?"

"She's here. She's been alternating rooms all night." Ray checked his watch. "She should be sleeping now."

May nodded. She looked around at her barren, off-white surroundings, raising a tired hand to her head.

Ray's blood-shot eyes followed her every motion. "Do you need something else? Paper bag?" She knew he was concerned with good reason. "No," she said. "At least, I don't think so."

May began clenching the sheets in her firsts and letting them fall slack to the rhythm of her breathing.

Ray opened his mouth to ask another question, but his pager went off. He let go of her hand. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

When he was gone, May continued to clutch and release the scritchy sheets. Off in the distance, someone was running. A door slammed. There was a shout and then the sound of a taser.

"I thought he'd never leave," A voice drawled.

May let out an inhuman sound as the Caretaker slid out from underneath her bed and did a sort of graceful half flip up to standing.

He looked drained, tired. His eyes were heavily lidded.

"Go away." May was not in the mood.

"I can't," he said. "I used up my time off for the week already."

May was silent. She felt a sense of bitter disappointment. She wasn't sure whether it was in the Caretaker, or herself for expecting something different from him.

Finally, she said, "I need to call you something else."

"You've never called me anything except HEY or YOU," he said with mild surprise.

"Well, in my head I called you Caretaker and you're not that at all," she snapped.

He sat down on the bed in the way he always did at home. "That is the most logical description of me."

May tried to stem her anger. "A real Caretaker would not have thought twice about saving a person I love."

They stared at each other until she thought of something. "SHIT."

"You say that a lot," the Caretaker noted.

May looked around for her phone. "The ambulance. I didn't cancel it. Did it come? Do we have to pay?" She was hysterical.

The Caretaker gently placed her phone down beside her. "It came," he said. "Apparently, you'll get the bill in the mail."

May lay back and started to cry for the first time since the Caretaker had appeared.

The next few hours was a blur of hugs and tears. May felt her mother stroke her back as she held her father's hand until visiting hours were over. Ray popped in a few times bearing forced cheer. May could tell there was something else going on with him, but she didn't have the energy to investigate.

Night fell, and May found herself in front of the elevators. Her mom had already left but May told her she wanted to see Ray again before the day was over. She waited, but he never came. Now, she would have to go home.

She stood in front of the imposing doors, her index finger twitching. Her breathing grew labored.

There was a tiny gust of wind that blew a few of her hairs behind her shoulders.

And he was beside her.

At least he'd done her the courtesy of disappearing while she was at her father's bedside.

"You're back," she said.

"I never left," he replied.

"Cause you used up all your time off?" She asked without heat.

He was silent for a moment, then he asked, "is there a reason you're just standing here?"

She turned to face him as a nurse walked by hurriedly. "You know there is. You know if I press it I could be standing here all night pressing it." Her voice rose. "Is there a reason YOU ARE hurting me SO much today? Is it your birthday and no one wants to celebrate? Have all your spirit friends gone out without you? Did you decide to bring hell down on all the world's people and you're starting with me?!"

Another nurse walked by, slower, as if she was listening.

The Caretaker simply pressed the button. "I've always been honest with you," he said, and walked through the doors.

She followed and pressed herself against the farthest corner of the elevator. "I hate this forced friendship." She shivered. "I hate--"

"Me?" He asked.

May nodded. It wasn't a lie but it still felt wrong.

The doors opened and they walked out into the lobby.

"For the record," he said, "the spirits think I'm boring."

May thought for a second. "The European history lectures?"

He sniffed and she took that to be a sign of assent.

The non-automatic doors opened automatically once again. The night air was cool and breezy. May made a decision and turned left.

"Why are we here?"

She had led them to a liquor store.

"Because I want alcohol," she said, taking her change from the guy at the counter.

"Drinking is bad for people with depression." His eyes lit up. "Good!"

The cashier coughed loudly. May stomped out of the store.

"Do you want a bigger glass? I can conjure a 16th century goblet. "

They sat on the floor of her bedroom. The Caretaker watched her pour a shot of tequila.

"No thanks," May gulped. "I don't get the kind of reaction to alcohol that you want me to. Sorry." She took another sip.

He looked disappointed.

"Just sit here and--" May stopped as something appeared in the Caretaker's hands. It was a bottle.

"The finest wine Aquataine ever produced," he said proudly.

She hiccuped. "Pretentious. And boring," she added for good measure.

He uncorked it lightly and took a long swig.

May chewed on her lip. "Can I have a sip?"

An hour later, the bottle was gone. May was dizzy, but her head felt light. The Caretaker was busy playing some sort of card game where the cards moved by themselves.

"What's your brain like?" May asked, slurring a little.

He looked at her. "There could be many hundreds of answers to that question."

"I mean…" May struggled to find her thoughts, "does her brain make sense to you? Does it work logically? Like when you gain powers does it happen in a coherent way?"

He appeared to be considering this. Finally, he let the cards drop to the floor. "No," he said, "it doesn't happen coherently."

He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt as if it was constricting him. "I am made to absorb pain which then becomes power. Pain does not just fester. It must always mutate into a different form if it cannot remain in its original shape."

May felt as though he was communicating something vastly important and she listened hard.

He continued. "Inside me, it is always trying to become something else and I have no control over what that might be. Before, it was barely noticeable. I was a spirit like any other with minimal powers. My body was not built to handle the amount of power that I feel now. My brain is trying to fight its own abilities." He paused.

"That's how I feel," May said slowly, in realization. "I feel like my brain is fighting my body."

This lingered in the air for a few moments.

Then, the Caretaker stood up. "Your dad is sleeping now, his lungs are doing better," he said abruptly.

"Are you leaving?" She didn't want him to.

"I put in an eight hour day," he said shortly.

May hiccuped again. "Is there a spirit union I could speak to? Cause you should get weekends off and holidays and everything."

Before she could react, he had bent down and kissed her.

It was short and harsh. His hand grabbed her hair. Just as she closed her eyes, it was over.

He straightened up and smiled, not unkindly. "I'll see you in the morning," he said.

And then she was alone.