Her Power
There had been rules. There were always rules. Troy Bolton hated rules.
Her mom and his parents went over them with him. They spent a whole day, explaining and answering questions. You can't go into her room unless she's sleeping, always stay five feet away from her, don't see her without her having any restraints; he was sick of it all. He scowled at them. He glared at them.
Why couldn't he, Troy Bolton see Gabriella Montez? How could he not see the girl who valiantly stole his heart and kept it safe for the last year?
One accident had to change their whole relationship? Was that it? Was it because she had a mental disorder now and had little control over her body?
One fucking accident? He had been suffering for a whole two weeks not seeing her. He didn't mind talking about it at all because he didn't want to believe it himself. Ms. Montez and his parents briefed him. They made sure they were gentle with it too; Troy could tell.
It angered him. Not only did it anger him, it disappointed him. How could they think that he should be kept away from her. She wasn't a monster.
"She can't talk correctly," Ms. Montez told him with the deadest stare anyone could get. "She can't walk or intentionally hold on to anything." A fought back sob followed. "She understands everything around her. There are a couple of black-outs in her memory. Thankfully most of it's there." Ms. Montez was openly crying now. "She…Sh-She can scream, yell, groan… she can't talk. She has spontaneous seizures. They're harmless to her when taken care of but… that's why we don't want you near her. We don't want you to get hurt." She clutched the arm of the chair as if to relinquish all of the pain and denial in the room. Ms. Montez looked at Troy and for a second, he saw Gabriella's eyes.
One second.
He was fucking eighteen years old. Eighteen and a half. She had just turned eighteen. Hardly anyone finds love when they're that young. But they did.
Her power over him was overwhelming.
It had been another two weeks since the briefing. Ms. Montez let him look through the window when she was eating sometimes. He would admire her beauty and wish he could break through the window and go hug her and kiss her, tell her about what had happened the last couple of weeks. They'd just graduated high school too. Both of them got accepted at UCLA. He had given up basketball. Why basketball when he had Gabriella?
No physical contact whatsoever in a month. His body was aching for hers.
He made deliveries to her house every weekday. He was working part-time at this department store and Ms. Montez frankly orders a lot of stuff from there. It was a Wednesday.
Troy was jogging over to the Montez residence again, wondering what Gabriella was doing at the moment. He knew that she mostly laid in bed all day. She could listen to the radio when she was bored but had to have someone turn it on and off for her.
He knocked on the door.
He knocked again.
"Ms. Montez?" he called. The door was unlocked so he just headed in, assuming that she was inside. When he reached the kitchen, he dropped off the poorly handled cardboard box on the table. A post-it caught his eye.
Troy-
I got a new job yesterday. I won't be home from noon to six from now on but you can drop off the packages on the kitchen table.
-Ms. Montez
Troy sighed and started on his way back home.
Then he heard it.
She was screaming.
He panicked.
She sounded like she was in pain.
His first instinct was to run upstairs and go see what was wrong.
So that's what he did.
With his jeans making dragging noises on the floor, he rushed up the stairs and into her room.
Okay, broke two rules already.
He caught sight of her for the first time in a month. She was on the bed, jerking with hands flying all over the place. It was another seizure wave.
Oh, god, what had Ms. Montez done when these things happened? She explained it to him before. He asked her.
She said that she put something in Gabriella's hands or else she would clench her fist so hard that her nails would pierce her own skin. Gabriella had no control over any of this. She was just a host, her condition taking over.
Gabriella was yelling. Troy made his way over in the dark room. Only the clouded sun provided any sort of light but he could see her. He could see his love.
At first his heart broke. There was no doubt she was screaming in desperation, pain. She didn't want this. She still had her bookworm conscious in there. That conscious knew that this wasn't good. He stood panicking near the bed. He saw her eyes. They were bloodshot and teary. Her messy raven curls were flying all over the place. The sheets were rumpled and no longer pinned to the mattress.
Without thinking, he grabbed her hands. He wanted to touch her again. Mistake, Bolton.
She clung onto his hands and this time they screamed together. These "seizures" could provide such great power. Her hands clenched his snapping his in her trap. Her nails were slowly digging in to his skin. He fell over onto her in pure pain. He unintentionally stopped her jerking. He shut his eyes, trying to stop yelling. She kept at it, thrashing her head from side to side. He tried to look in her eyes, tried to find some remains of the gentle, sweet teenage girl he remembered.
No, the disease had taken over.
She was loosening her grip; the wave was passing. His hands were bleeding and his ears were numbing.
She was screaming so loud; he had never heard her do that before. It was almost inhuman.
When she had finally stopped, he wearily took his hands from hers, not wanting to move them. He rolled off to the side of the bed, not wanting to look at his hands. She was just breathing hard and staring at the ceiling.
He sat up, looking at her first. She seemed to not notice him; her gaze was locked on the dull ceiling. They were both panting, trying to get over the pain.
Then he took a look at the damage. There were deep nail marks on both of his hands and they were bleeding. His left hand was probably broken. They were both bruised badly. Her power was greater than he imagined. He sighed and turned to her again, scooting closer to her until his knees were touching her arm. "Geez, Gabriella. Who says you can't cut your own steak?" he sighed.
It was so sudden. Her eyes darted to his. He made out what could've been a fraction of a smile on her face.
"She understands everything around her." Ms. Montez' words flashed through his brain. He looked at her and gulped.
She mustered all of her strength and soon enough, a trembling hand was lifting from her body. She looked into his eyes and he felt it. He felt the same intensity he did a month ago, the same intensity a year ago. Her eyes were flashing with all these different emotions. She didn't know what to feel. But what did it matter? No one could understand her now. Years of memorizing complex SAT words, rummaging through college English books to discover new ways of grammar. It was all gone.
No one would even come up and talk to her. She wasn't retarded or anything. She could understand, process everything around her. Her mother only came up to see her when she had those waves. After they passed she would say something like, "What are we going to do with you?" or "It's so sad where you are now". It broke her heart. But now, Troy Bolton, golden boy of East High, her loyal boyfriend and best friend was up here. Not only that, he suffered for her. She loved him. He loved her. They'd told each other that for six months and they meant it.
Now, he was here, talking to her. Someone was actually in her room talking to her.
And it was Troy Bolton.
Her hand slowly made it to his face. He winced so that she couldn't see. These were the same hands that just crushed his fingers. He shut his eyes tight, hoping that her hand would fall.
He thought his prayers had gone to God, for he felt nothing on his face. When he opened his eyes again, he saw her hand still in mid air. Her eyes were fighting the tiredness of her body. Her hand was stuck trembling halfway between her and Troy.
He decided to help. All feelings of pain and worry had disappeared only to be replaced by compassion. He took her hand gently, struggling to keep away the pain. He led her hand to his face, letting her touch it. Her thumb was moving. She was trying so hard. She was trying so hard to focus on him, to keep her hand there.
He felt her skin on his. It was a little rougher but all at the same time just like her remembered. He would die for these moments.
She felt his skin again. Oh, she had not seen him in a month and she was getting weaker even faster. But to feel him again, she felt a new wave of emotion. It wasn't the pain, the loneliness, or the sadness she had felt for the past four weeks but it was the recreated love. She tried to smile; she tried to give some sort of sign that she was happy now that he was here.
But she couldn't. Her energy drained, her hand fell in his lap. Her bottom lip started to tremble. Her eyes were suddenly feeling damp. She was trying to cry.
But she couldn't. No energy.
He took her hand and again and kissed it. "Hey, Gabi," he finally said. His voice was so quiet as if not to break her fragile figure.
Then something extraordinary happened.
Her lips were trying to move. She was trying so hard.
"T-Troy," she finally let out in a voice just above a whisper. His eyes widened and his grip tightened. Her voice was somehow different. It was definitely forced; it cracked.
But he heard it. He heard it well.
She started panting right afterwards. It was a shortage of breath. That had just knocked all the energy left in her. But he still felt something. He felt her give his hand the smallest squeeze ever. Then right after, it fell limp.
He was speechless. She couldn't talk but she had just said his name. He heard it clearly. Now his ears hurt. He was trying to find that melodious sound once again. He was trying to search for it in the room. No use. She was asleep now.
He gently placed her hand back by her side and touched her face. It hadn't changed. None of it had changed. He gingerly traced her cheekbone; his hot breath blew against her nose.
He wouldn't let this happen to her. He was going to make it better. This was Gabriella Montez, the love of his life. She wasn't going to go like this.
After he was sure that she was asleep, he quietly walked back downstairs and to his house. He made sure that his parents couldn't see his hands and when he showed up for dinner, he wore gloves, stating that it was cold.
He was going back tomorrow. He had to.
Her power over him was back and stronger than ever.
AN:// Wow, talk about angst. Well, I'm working on a new story since With Nothing is kind of at an awkward halt. The new story is already six chapters done so I hope to post that up soon. Thanks for the feedback on The Season. It really means a lot.
This is going to be a side thing...maybe a three-shot or five-shot.
Kudos if you read the this entire author's note. feedback is appriciated!