188A/N: Well, here it is, everybody! The last chapter! Thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed. You are all awesome!
Disclaimer: Nope. However much I wish for it, none of these characters are mine. They belong to the people at Disney.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ben
I must have dozed off again, because I had to open my eyes when I felt a light touch on my elbow. I blinked, confused for a second, until my gaze finally focused on Riley.
"What's the matter, kid?" I asked.
"I'm not a kid," Riley protested. Then he smiled. "You were about to fall out of your chair. Thought I'd give you some warning."
"Thanks," I said, readjusting my position to a safer one for sleeping.
"Um, Ben?" Riley said, just as I closed my eyes again.
"Hmm?"
"I think it's time you got to bed. Like, a real bed."
"What?" I asked, not opening my eyes. There was not enough coffee in the world to keep me going at this point. I'd been half-asleep for a while now, and it was making everything really confusing.
Riley sighed, like he was explaining something to a two-year-old. "Go home and sleep, Ben. I'll still be here in the morning."
That got through. My eyes snapped open, and I sat up. "Riley, it's okay. I don't mind—"
Riley interrupted me. "I know you don't. But I'm fine. You don't have to stay."
I stared at him for a whole second. If he was feeling guilty again, I was going to hit him. None of this was his fault, and I didn't mind staying another night. What was one more night in an uncomfortable chair compared to a happy Riley? Nothing. "Really, it's not a big deal. It's not like I've never done this before."
Riley rolled his eyes. "I know, Ben, but seriously, you should get some real sleep. You're starting to look like a zombie. And I'm talking scary zombie here, not corny 1930s zombie."
"Thanks very much," I said, laughing a little. Why was that so funny? I must really have been tired.
"Go home, Ben," Riley said, grinning like he was thinking the same thing.
I stared into his eyes for a long moment. I could find nothing there to suggest he wasn't okay. He didn't look nervous or guilty or even reluctant. He was just very . . . Riley. But I still had to ask. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Very slowly, I stood up. "You'll call me if you need anything, right? I'll be right here."
"Yeah."
I grabbed my jacket, moving at sloth-speed. "I'll come in as soon as visiting hours start, okay?"
"Yeah."
"You'll be okay?"
"Yeah."
"And if—"
"Ben?" Riley interrupted. "I get the picture, okay?" He gave me a very genuine smile. "Thanks."
"No problem. But seriously, if you need—"
"Go on, Ben."
"Bye, Riley. See you tomorrow."
"Bye."
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Riley checked out of the hospital two days later, looking a thousand times better than he had when we'd brought him in. I'd driven his Ferrari to the parking lot, hoping to surprise him by letting him drive home. Abigail was waiting back at the house with a chocolate cake, Riley's favorite.
And I was getting the chewing out of my life.
"Ben! This is my car. You're not supposed to drive my car, even to surprise me, even to take me to the ER, even take me out for ice cream. My car! Seriously!"
"Riley—"
"You could have scratched the paint! You could have hit something! How'd you find the keys, anyway? You've been in my room, too! What about my laptop?"
"Riley—"
"Nope. There's no way you can talk yourself out of this one. You drove my car!"
And there was nothing I could say to that.
His mood improved as he drove, though, as I'd known it would. I'd won this argument, as far as I was concerned. And Riley was back to normal. That was the best part.
Riley pulled into the driveway, narrowly avoiding the mailbox. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. "I could have hit something, huh?" I teased.
"Not funny, Ben. And I'm still not talking to you."
I couldn't keep from laughing that time.
()()()()()()()()()()()()
Riley
Abigail was waiting for us in the kitchen, and he pulled me into a tight hug when I walked in.
"Ow. Abigail, ow," I said, as she crushed the air out of my lungs. But I let her hold on a second longer. It was kind of nice, in a painful way.
"I'm so glad you're better, Riley," she said, finally letting go.
"That makes two of us," I said with a grin.
"Three," Ben said, tossing his jacket over the back of a kitchen chair.
"I'm still not talking to you, Ben," I told him.
"Good. Some peace and quiet might be nice," he replied, grinning. I glared at him.
Abigail laughed. "So, how about some cake?"
That got my attention. "You made cake? What kind? Chocolate?"
"What other kind is there?" she asked, unveiling a two-layer masterpiece covered in chocolate frosting. I could have kissed her, except that Ben would probably have decked me.
The three of us sat down at the kitchen table and had a slice of cake. Actually, I had two slices, and seriously considered going back for thirds.
"Don't forget your meds," Abby prompted.
"Ugh," I complained. If this was her new way of getting me to take pills, I wasn't going to go down without a fight. "So you think that bribing me with cake makes it okay to mother me? That is seriously sadistic. Tell her that's sadistic, Ben."
"What, you're talking to me now?" Ben said, amusement in his voice.
Why did everything like that have to backfire? Fine. Have it your way, Ben. "Abigail, Ben told me you sleep with a nightlight."
I watched Abigail's face turn an interesting shade of pink; Ben's expression was almost scared. This was sweet. I'd gotten both of them at once.
"I do not! Ben, how could you—!" Abigail started, at a painful volume.
"Riley!" Ben said loudly.
I was laughing helplessly by now. Both of them turned to look at me at exactly the same moment, like in a bad sitcom. I hugged my sides, laughing harder.
Finally, they couldn't hold back their amusement any more. Abigail cracked a smile and Ben started laughing with me.
My laugh eventually turned into a cough, and I had to cut it out. Ben handed me a glass of water. "Thanks," I said, still grinning. I hoped he knew it wasn't just for the water. I was feeling so much better than I had in a long time. And not just because I wasn't sick anymore, either.
Ben got it, like he always did. "No problem, Riley. What're friends for?"
I thought about it for a second. "Well, they're not for driving my Ferrari," I said, "but they are pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me."
A/N: Well, that's it . . . So, what did you think? Good? Bad? Please tell me what you think by pressing the review button (which is now green, yay)! If you have any suggestions on what I should write next, I'd love to hear them!