And at Last I See the Light {Tyler}

[PICKLE ABREY]

Thoughts were spinning through her head rapid-fire. Over the course of the last few months, things had changed drastically. She had settled into her skin, dressed a little better, was a little less afraid of being awkwad. But the biggest change was in her friends. How they all seemed to drift around like continents broken up, and trying to slide into the slot where they belonged. The biggest change wasn't Pickle--but RJ. Tempermental, less friendly, irritable. He had been watching Will, was it? It all seemed like a blur, and Pickle had been chewing him out for one reason or another. For ditching them, for bailing on his friends. The fist had come at her, bruising her mouth as it clamped over her nose and lips. She couldn't breathe behind his hand, and so she bit down, the blood that hit her tongue stirred something inside of her. But before she could focus, she had fled the scene in utter terror.

This was a few days ago, and the shock still hadn't worn off. Instead, the wide-eyed girl who never lost her strange stare as mindlessly staring at the wall. She had scrubbed her mouth viciously, but even now she could still taste RJ's blood on her tongue. The look of utter hatrid in his eyes, like if he had been able to catch her he would have throttled her with his bloodied hand. Her breath quickened just enough, before she lept out of bed and moved into her kitchen. Quickly, she grabbed a small tray, and stacked a few left over cookies and brownies onto them before leaving the dorm.

She hadn't thought about it, she wasn't dressed. Only wearing cherry covered shorts, and a tight black tanktop, the barefooted girl all but ran down the hallways. She headed in the opposite direction of Addison's dorm, away from Andie. Across the grass of the courtyard--when was the last time she blinked? Everything seemed to be on edge as her feet rushed her to the boy's dorm, taking the long way so she wouldn't have to pass that dreadful number of RJ and Freddie's room. She was afraid of RJ, afraid of what he'd do to her. There was enough blood, and she had felt a crunch. Was he in the hospital, or was he waiting in a dark corner for her to come wandering so he could get her back?

Just a few minutes after midnight, and Pickle pounded on the door, her blonde hair swinging with the effort in which she knocked. Tendrils curled and fell around her face in a old style, and old, messy careless styyle, instead of the organized curls she had been fond of the past few weeks. Her toes curled slightly as she stared at the door, her heart jumping into her throat. What if he wasn't even here?

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Things were........awkward lately.

Tyler, who wasn't an exceptionally social person to begin with, had found that his small group of friends was falling apart. Things did not work out at all with Addison, mostly because of a certain mischievous dark-haired boy. For some reason, RJ had been distant, not that Tyler cared much. He had never been close with RJ on account of the fact that he could be rather intimidating. The only one he continued to speak to was Pickle. He supposed he would talk to Addison, but she was so busy and he was quite embarrassed.

As a result, Tyler had spent an impressive amount of time in his dorm room, doing homework. Consequently, his mother had called a few days ago, praising him for his good grades. He wished he could tell her that it was mainly caused by being socially inept, but couldn't bring himself to share that news.

Currently, Tyler laid on his bed, in a very light sleep. Toby Keith's music played softly as the teenager's face slipped into that childlike form that happens upon us when we sleep.

A sudden banging shattered the calm and Tyler shot up, eyes wide, expecting gunfire. Confused, he shook his head. Why gunfire? He had never in his life had a gun pointed at him. Tyler got up, sore from the cramped position he had read in and groggy from lack of sleep. He opened his door and only when he saw Pickle standing there did he realize he wore only his pajama pants. Oh. Oh well.

He yawned, but gave her a little smile, trying to hide his concern.

"Hey. Whatcha doin' here? Uh.." He looked around the hall, unsure. "Wanna come in? You're probably not supposed to be out and about.."

He stepped back, widening the doorway for her.

[PICKLE ABREY]

"U-uh...sure." Pickle's head dipped down when the door opened, glancing at the hallway. Suddenly, as though she had no worry in the world, she looked straight up into his face. No, there was no need to stare at his shirtless form. That was just rude and...well rude. "I just had some left-overs, and I thought you might like them." She paused, her mouth opened in that half smile, but she seemed almost frozen. It was like the words were trapped in her throat, refusing to strum her vocal chords and continue the thought.

Her mouth opened and closed, and her expression softened just a little, the pale hands grasping the trey shook slightly. "What's happening to everyone?" She asked quietly, her abnormally large eyes staring at Tyler through the mess of her bangs. For all the pretty clothes, hair styling, and makeup she had gotten used to over the past few months--Pickle suddenly looked like herself. Ratty hair, lost, confused, scared. Her small mouth scrunched, her teeth closing down on them while her breath just sped up a little more.

Her shoulders and chest were visibly rising and falling, while those large orbs she called eyes wre starting to fill with tears, "Addison's...Addison's always studying. And even Freddie's been acting weird. And RJ....RJ's after Will, and he was rough the other day, and he's been cold and I'm scared of him after what happened..." Her fingers tightened, "And...and--" The rest of the words never came, because the tears came spilling out, and her head dropped with a curtain of blonde hair while the sobs choked out of her mouth. Pickle had never been graceful when it came to crying. She got blotchy-faced, she sobbed, and it was just plain ugly. An old habit was hiding her face, and holding onto something. In this case. The thin plastic tray that seemed to be straining in her fiercely strong grip.

She came to Tyler's dorm instead of Addison's or Andie's, and she had absolutely no explination for it. Everything seemed like it was going haywire, and the calm, sensible Pickle had checked out, leaving the sobbing mess behind. Every word, every thought got jumbled up, and crashed into each other, making absolutely no cohearant sense in her own, poor little mind.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

"Oh.. Well.. Thanks." Tyler watched Pickle closely. She was trying to keep something inside with so much effort that it looked painful.

He had no answer to her question, only a small shrug, his mouth opening and closing aimlessly. Her pretty blue eyes filled with tears and Tyler imagined that the dam she had built to stay together had some cracks and it was just about to burst. Then the floodgates opened.

Pickle began to cry and something just wasn't quite right about that. Whoever made his Pickle cry deserved to die an absolutely horrid, torturous death. He took the tray out of her hands, as it had begun to bend under the pressure she had inflicted upon it and set it on his dresser.

Tyler pulled the sobbing Pickle to his chest, enveloping her in a protective hug. He stroked her hair gently, rocking from side to side soothingly.

"Shh..It's okay.. Everything will be alright."

He pulled back just a little to see her face, a weak smile on his lips. Ty tucked her hair behind her ear, eyes scanning her face carefully.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle relinquished the tray surprisingly easy. She would have been upset if she snapped it and broke the tray while making a mess of the cookies and brownies. Instead, when the plastic left her hands, her shoulders short of hunched over, and her long fingers crossed over her chest, grasping her upper arms tightly as she hugged herself, attempting to catch her breath. It didn't help any when she was pulled into the warm of Tyler's chest.

If anything, the comforting feel of the warmth made the tears rush out faster, her hands reaching up to block her eyes so she didn't smear her tears on them. How utterly unattractive--Kenny would kill her. The petting of her hair, and the rocking from side to side helped, and maybe the rush of tears was just that. A rush. She sniffled loudly again, wiping at her eyes with her wrists when he drew back.

Pickle kept her eyes to the floor, her face and lips having that strange swollen sensation that one got after crying. She didn't want to exactly, but she kind of had to. She had to explain why she came here of all places, woke him up, and proceeded to fall into hysterics inside of his room. The boy deserved that much of an explination at least. Pickle would have given a foot to have one of her sweaters right now, her fingers gripping her upper arms again. It would have been better to have sleeves to fidget with, or for the bottom of her shirt to be baggy enough that she could pull and twist in her hands. Instead, she just dug her fingertips into her thin arms.

"RJ's been being a jerk..." Finally, those large doe eyes turned up to Tyler's face, at least she was speaking now, instead of sobbing. But her voice was quiet and meek. "And I got sick of it, so I went after him to talk to him. He was staring at Andie in one of the classrooms real weird, so when I tried to get his attention away he tried to muffle me." She mumbled, shrugging her shoulders, "I ended up biting him, and I ran. It's just the icing ontop of the cake, and then you and Addison didn't work out for some ungodly reason, and I feel horrible. Like I set you up to fall on your face. I just miss how everything was." One hand left her uper arm, sweeping her hair away from her face. But all the stupid conditioning that she had been putting her hair through made it soft, and the half just fell right back to where it had been moments ago.

"Everyone's just falling apart, and I don't like that. I don't want to be alone again. I miss Freddie's stupid jokes, I miss everyone hanging out." Pickle bit the inside of her cheek again to prevent the tears from fall all over again. She was going to cry herself out at this rate, and in order to keep herself steady, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler felt no guilt when he was not at all surprised that RJ was the source of Pickle's tears. He'd never been good to Pickle, save for the couple of times that he tried to dial Freddie down a notch. He listened to her story as he went around the room, picking up this and that. He had to move. Or he'd go crazy. He paused, however, when Pickle's words made him uneasy.

"He.. tried to...muffle you...?"

Something made him extremely suspicious. For Pickle to react the way she did, he would had to have put a lot of force behind that.

Then Tyler sighed tiredly and sat on his bed, patting the area next to him, inviting her to relax a bit.

"Pickle, don't worry about me and Addison, okay? It's not your fault. Some things just don't work out, that's all. You did your best, and I really appreciate that, and so does Addison, I imagine."

Pickle looked rather frazzled as she pushed her hair back. He took one of his blankets and wrapped it around her. She tended to fidget when she was upset and now was no exception. Perhaps it would help to have a bit of a distraction.

Tyler's grey eyes were soft and warm as he put his arm around Pickle comfortingly.

"You won't be alone. Even if you don't have the others, I'll always be here for you. You don't think I'd let you be all by yourself, do you?" He threw her a little smile, squeezing her shoulders gently.

[PICKLE ABREY]

Oh, there was much more to the story. The fact that Pickle couldn't forget the hand on her face, or the fear that RJ had tried to hit her afterwards. It was a blinding flash of broken pieces of memory, but she could remember the blood in her mouth. The soft, quiet ticking in her right ear that she couldn't seem to get rid of. The fact that she had a crocodile constantly popping into her mind, and that she felt like she was hallucinating the heavy tail slithering around the corner. Or that she swore she saw the beast slip into the resivoir the last time she went to the park.

Everything had got hinkey, and Pickle had absolutely no idea what was going on. And yet, with it all falling apart and being completely unexplainable, but most bizzare thing was that there was a strange calm starting to settle over her in Tyler's presance. She followed him like a lost duckling, and sat on the edge of his bed with him, suddenly aware that she had run over here barefoot. Embarassing. She pulled the heels of her feet to the edge of her bed, and wrapped her arms around her thin legs. She burrowed into the blanket that he put about her shoulders, and she teetered to the side against him as his arm went around her.

"Of course not." She mumbled in response, feeling suddenly silly. Of course Tyler wouldn't bail on her, he was a sweet boy. Kind, funny. Not a mean bone in his body. He was like her in a lot of ways, actually. Pickle offered a small, weak smile in return of his own. Except his eyes weren't as strange, he was handsome where she had a strange kind of pretty. Her eyes looked away--one of the make-over crew had told her about that. Don't look for too long, people got creeped out by her eyes if they stared. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." Her voice had dropped down again, and her hand slid out of the blanket to grasp the hand over her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Thank you, Tyler."

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler gave her a soft smile. As she squeezed his hand, he had the curious sensation of butterflies erupting inside him. He found it quite peculiar. Sure, he had butterflies with Addison. Not like she really returned them.. He had never quite seen Pickle in that kind of light.

But as he looked at her now, he found that he did. Everything about her was beautiful. Her blonde hair shone in the moonlight. Her radiant blue eyes that had previously been watery with tears now appeared to be calm. He had noticed the slight change in her appearance over the last few months, as she seemed to care more about it. And she looked lovely. But he decided that he liked the old Pickle just the same, maybe better.

Tyler held her tighter, feeling suddenly even more protective. He couldn't shake the mention of what RJ had done from his mind.

"Pickle? Can you tell me more about what happened with RJ? Please?"

[PICKLE ABREY]

The pressing question made her brows knit together slightly, and the tiny smile faded from her mouth. Her long fingers tucked her long hair behind her ears, instead of running her hand through it like she had been taught. Tucking it behind her ears was an old nervous-Pickle habit, and it stuck with her pretty strong. "He just kinda put his hand over my mouth, like..." Pickle raised one hand, and laid her hand over where RJ's hand had been. She didn't look at Tyler, but after a moment she lowered her hands.

"But I bit him hard enough to draw blood, I think I might have broken his hand." That was all. Anything that came after may or may not have been true--it was all a fast blur. She wasn't sure if her brain concoted it to fill in the blanks, or if it had actually happened. But there was no point in getting Tyler all riled up over something Pickle wasn't entirely sure about.

"Trust me, I did a lot more damage to him than he did to me." Pickle straigtened up, and lifted one arm, curling it in a flex of muscle, "That's what happens when you try to take on a lady from the south!" She puffed her cheeks out, before completely deflating and letting her hands fall back into her lap. She bit down on her lower lip again, feeling the tightness in her throat while her body tried to supress the urge to cry. "I can't believe I actually cared about him, you know?" Again she stared up at Tyler, his image blurred out by the tears welling up. She wasn't sad now, if anything she was mad. Mad that she had given her heart to RJ since the first moment she saw him. Angry that she had wasted all that time in trying to get him to like her.

Almost as if she were channeling that anger, she leaned over, using the bottom of her shirt to wipe of the remnants of eyeshadow and eyeliner that had been left on her face from the day before. She tugged her long hair over her shoulder, and pressed it between her palms, rubbing the locks together in order to break up the curls that ere set with hairspray. Taking it all out. Maybe she'd go back tomorrow But when she felt the soft waves of her hair instead of the hard, artificial curls, she sniffed loudly again. Feeling much better.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Pickle held her slender hands against her face and Tyler observed them. He frowned, mimicking her carefully. With his hands over his face like that, it was extremely difficult to breathe. RJ had.. hurt her. Tyler felt a stab of fury at the idea of RJ laying his hands on Pickle in any way.
Pickle lowered her hands and continued her tale. Tyler's eyebrows shot up. She drew blood? ................Impressive. He tried not to be too pleased that RJ was in pain. He had never really been one to wish suffering on anyone. Giving a weak chuckle, he tucked the blanket closer around her.

Her gaze dropped and she was holding back tears. When she spoke and stared up at him, his heart nearly broke for her. He took her face in his hands, brushing a tear away gently with his thumb.

"No. Pickle, don't.."

He couldn't bear to see her hurting over this guy. RJ wasn't even kind of worth it. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Taking her hand, he looked at her, his eyes intensely focused, wanting to be certain that she understood every word.

"Pickle. You are so.. kind, funny, beautiful and talented.. You accept people for who they are and you're a really loyal friend. You go out of your way to help others. Your heart is as big as the sky! And if RJ can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you. There's a guy for you that will appreciate everything you have to offer, and will give you everything you deserve."

[PICKLE ABREY]

Pickle turned those massive eyes onto Tyler again, listening to his words. With the risk of sounding vain, she knew what he was saying. She never once doubted that she was kind, and talented. That she accepted people, and that she was loyal. Maybe she didn't wholeheartedly believe the beautiful and funny part. If anything, that made her cheeks turn a slight shade of pink, and made a strange tickle occur in her stomach.

"I know. I mean, there's always that one person out there for everyone. And it would be silly to assume that I'd find that one person in high school, you know?" She shrugged her shoulders, and eased the blanket off just a little bit. The cool air on her warmed skin was a relief, and felt even better when she twisted her hair and pulled it to her other shoulder. "Can I tell you a secret?" She asked, wrapping her arms around her legs again. Looking at Tyler, her eyes had a spark of mischeif in them, and her lips curled upwards slightly.

"I haven't told anyone, not even Addison. And you can't laugh." Her brows raised up, eyes darting over his face before she leaned in, whispering out of the corner of her mouth. "I wasn't born a Pickle." She straightened out again, before looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. "One of the girls thought that people would take me a little more seriously if I didn't go by Pickle. Then I had to walk away and have a good laugh. You can't tell anyone. Or laugh. Don't laugh." It was a subject changed, and the lighter air was making her feel just a little bit better. Maybe she could come back to the topic when her stomach stopped fluttering, or when her heard could figure out if it was going to break or beat. "My name is Michelle Kelly Abrey." She stretched her arms out in front of her, before letting them drop into her lap.

"I don't suppose Tyler's a nickname, is it?" She questioned, tilting her head at him with a grin.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler nodded as she spoke and felt a great relief when she smiled a little. Pickle leaned close to him and he froze, hoping she couldn't hear his small inhale or his heart pounding rapidly at the slightly devilish look in her eyes. His exposed skin quickly covered itself in goosebumps. Her whisper made him laugh though and she drew back, explaining herself.

"Michelle Kelly.." He repeated, smiling.

He liked it. A lot.

Tyler shook his head, as if it was the most unfortunate thing that Tyler was not his nickname.

"Nope. Just Tyler Logan. Of course, I've had a variety of nicknames. Ty, Hick, Farmer, Cowboy.."

He grinned at her, jabbing his thumb towards his cd player.

"Heck, I'm even listening to country music now."

[PICKLE ABREY]

She grinned when he repeated her name. Just as much as he liked it, she liked him saying it. The last time she was called that was by teachers when she first enrolled, which she quickly corrected and told them she'd prefer to be referred to as Pickle. Because it was hard to forget her face, people just called her Pickle. No one called her Michelle on a regular basis, not even her parents who also called her Pickle. So it was foriegn to her, and hearing it rumble out of Tyler's mouth caused a small thrill to run up and down her spine.

"I've had my share of those too, mostly since moving here." Pickle wasn't the kind of country girl that would go wranglin' up cows, or wander through fields on horseback. She was the kind of country that chowed down on catfish, and spicy food. The kind that drank coffee from a chickory bean instead of just your regular shelf-ground coffee. The kind that had enough city in her that she wasn't horribly lost, but enough to remember her routes. Not as deep as the Bayou, but close. "Toby Keith, right?" She asked after a moment of silence, leaning towards the CD player for just a few moments.

"Tyler's a good name though. It's friendly and sweet. It suits you very well." Pickle reassured, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Part of her wanted him to say her name just one more time. It was such an average name, boring; yet it came alive on Tyler's tongue. Her eyes glanced at his mouth for a split second before looking back up at his face, sharing a smile at him. "I kinda miss home sometimes. It's like a completely different world." She leaned foward, resting the side of her head on her knees while she looked up at Tyler. She wasn't staring, just watching. The smile on her face made her eyes close just a little, seeming less large and intimidating. Therefore, she felt just fine looking at Tyler for a little longer than---oh crap.

Pickle sat up suddenly, "Oh, god. I'm keeping you up. I don't even know what time it is, but it's late. I'm so sorry. Thank you so much, Tyler. I'll go so you can get back to sleep, I'm so sorry." Pickle quickly wriggled out of the blanket she was in before quickly hopping off the bed, tiny fists tugging the edge of her black tank back into place as she prepared for a hasty run to the other side of the living quarters.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >

[TYLER CARTER]

Tyler positively beamed when she recognized the music. He had felt so alone in NYC, with all the people who were his age listening to rap and hip hop and even some kind of hipster music that he was sure someone had to have been high to write.

He surveyed her quietly for a moment, lost in thought.

"Would you care if.. If I called you Michelle? I mean.. not all the time, but.. I like it on you.." His voice has started out hesitant, but became more confident, although still quite shy. Tyler wasn't sure if she had simply disliked her name, or if she was just used to her nickname.

He nodded. He missed Minnesota like crazy. He missed the lakes and the trees and the corn fields and the tiny towns where everyone seemed to know each other by name. He missed the dumb little coffee shop by the Crow River, that flourished, even though no one knew how it was able to keep going. He missed the creaking boards on the dock by his friend's cabin. His old high school where there were teachers who had been there since his parents went there and Mr. Aurich's room that smelt of formaldehyde. Mostly he missed Ellie and Brynn.

He gave Pickle a small smile, about to tell her about this, when she shot up, and backed towards the door, suddenly apologetic for keeping him awake.

"Wait!"

He blushed a little at his reaction that required no thought on his part.

"I mean.. You can stay, if you want. I don't want you to get caught on your way back, anyway. Besides, I like talking to you. You don't have to leave.."

[PICKLE ABREY]

There he went, calling her name like that again. Luckily, her legs weren't carrying her anywhere because she promptly would have tripped and fallen on her face. She didn't mind her name at all, but she had just been called Pickle since she was a little girl. She became used to it, and so it was strange for someone to call her Michelle. "Sure, you can call me Michelle." She said almost breathlessly, the affirmation coming out a little softer than she had intended.

She had been startled by him telling her to wait, before blinking those large eyes at him. Stay here and talk to a boy? What if they fell asleep? And she had to walk back in the morning--would people look at her funny? If Addison caught word, would she be somehow upset? Even though the questions came to her mind, Pickle started to realize that she didn't exactly care if anyone saw her coming from Tyler's dorm. It wasn't any of their business what went on!

Still standing, Pickle looked back at him and had a strange urge to just drop her arms over his shoulders and press her forehead to his. It was strong enough that she took a single step towards him, before suddenly shifting her feet in the slighest and taking a seat next to him on the bed instead. She crushed that urge--it was nothing. It was just the mystery and excitement of being in a boy's dorm in the middle of the night, in secret, in the dark, with country music playing quietly in the background. That's all it was. It had nothing to do with how he said his name, or the way his face looked in the silvery light that leaked in through the windows.

Pickle tore her eyes away from Tyler, and stared out the window--the air suddenly just sitting a little heavier. "Y-you....you should see Louisiana sometimes...uh, 'specially New Orleans. I-it's real nice, like...a different world." Great, just great. She managed to hold herself together this long.

What Pickle is wearing. And something cute for Tickle shippers. Not sure on the whole whatever-Tyler-is-wearing. I just made that up. >