In the Heat of the Moment Pt 2 (Felix and Calhoun)

Sergeant Calhoun had tried to sleep that night, but her memories were thick enough to drip into reality, and after racking her skull for too long over the same old tired thing, she decided she wasn’t going to sleep the rest of her life.

Instead she found herself in the gym in a far corner of hero’s duty where the punching bag she had become acquainted with through years of training and stress was still there to keep her company.

Two days ago she had been doing the same thing whenever she had free time.  Tonight was no exception and for three hours she had been punching her anger away, and whenever her hands protested against the gestures, and the skin under her bandaged knuckles began to split, all she had to do was picture Felix instead of the punching bag and her energy returned in a sudden wave.

Technically, Felix had apologized for being an idiot, but to Calhoun didn’t count it, because it had been so pathetic, and she hadn’t even heard from him for two whole days.  What a coward, but it didn’t matter because if she saw him right now, she knew she might treat him like the punching bag, and no matter what he did, it would never be able to take back the memory and the real side effects that came with it. Someone had died, and it had been her fault. That was the truth no matter how many times she tried to convince herself it was just programmed.

It didn’t take long for her anger to putrefy into bitterness, and Tamora usually kept it silent, but tonight her tongue let it all out.

“Stupid son of a plumber!”  She growled and punched the bag in a steady flow and it sucked in the inertia causing it to shake, “Sorry excuse for a man!” Tamora punched faster, and her hands began to leave red behind, but she didn’t miss a beat “With those stupid baby blue eyes of his! Stupid stupid stupid!” She grumbled and changed her punching pattern into something a bit more crazed so to not remember all the times she had been dumb enough to have fallen in love with them, “and his stupid little accent!” Her punches became harder and harder and the bag shook and rocked back and forth. She concentrated on the sound of the chain as it creaked because she could hear Felix’s sobbed ‘I’m sorry’ play over and over in her mind, “I should have known better!!” she spat and punched the bag faster still, “I hate him!” Tamora drowned out more apologies with childish ranting but began to wince slightly after each loaded touch; finally, it seemed she was running out of steam, but when she remembered Felix’s face, and what he had said to her so easily, she forced herself into punching harder than ever, “Hate hate hate hate that dumb empty headed insensitive fake 8-bit older than dirt golden magic hammer wielding idiot!!”  She yelled over the sound of her fists pounding the leather, and thought she could keep going longer but her hands finally snapped.

Calhoun sucked in a painful gasp and pulled her hands closer to her to finally acknowledge their condition. They were slightly swollen, red with blood, and hurt like heck.  Calhoun groaned in frustration at their uselessness and automatically blamed Felix
for it. Everything was his fault.

At least I didn’t let him get eaten!...Felix's words came back to her now vacant mind and burned just as bad in memory form.  There was no way she could hold it in. She had to do something with herself or she would go completely delusional. Quickly she turned to the side and easily pushed over the first thing her hands touched.

The unexpected crash of the rack that held the weights was loud enough to snap her out of the blind state. Tamora blinked quickly and looked around suddenly remembering what she was doing. She slowly looked around at the mess of weights piled and spilled in front of her.  She followed the trail and it led her to the base of the mirror wall.  Chunks at the bottom had shattered form the impact she created, and her eyes slowly moved up the reflective surface and she found herself in the mirror.

She was a red eyed, dripping in sweat, bloodied-hand mess; but what was more overpowering was the rage behind her eyes. It looked hot enough to burn. Is that what other people saw in her? Is that what Felix had seen two days ago?...  So what if it had? He deserved it…didn’t he?

Tamora took deep breaths and looked around at the mess she created again and remembered how it had been Felix she had almost done that to that day.  Please, I didn’t mean that…
Tamora slowly leaned her back against a wall and slid down until she was sitting on the floor.  She covered her face with her ruined hands and felt her emotions swallow her all over again.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………


Felix sat in the edge of his bed in his dark, quiet, and still apartment regretting how
he had managed to say something so cruel. There was no memory of other times he had said such raw and hurtful words. He hadn’t even acted defensive against Ralph, his own antagonist; even to Gene, though he drove Felix up the wall sometimes, Felix had never lashed out at either. Never before had he hurt someone like he had his best friend and love, Tamora.

A sob escaped him and Felix buried his face in his hands.  Two days had already passed since the incident, and there was no sign of Tamora.  Felix had thought about going to her, but how could he? She probably never wanted to see him again. He was nothing but a shell of a man who wasn’t a hero, noble, or worthy, and most of all, he wasn’t who Tamora needed. She had trusted him enough to love him, and Felix had hurt her; on purpose.  There was no excuse for that.

Perhaps this was why his golden hammer lay on the floor in a dark corner of his room where he had thrown it.  Felix was only as good as that hammer, therefore, he was just as worthless the golden tool, and carrying it around after game hours felt shameful. His hammer seemed to taunt him whenever it clicked in its place on his tool belt.

Felix sniffed and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand but more tears persisted in sliding down his face.  He closed his eyes tight and ran his hands through his hair in desperation for the hundredth time that night.

All he could think about was Tamora.  His mind always found her familiar memories and he wondered what she was doing right now. Was she crying too? He prayed she wasn’t. If any of her tears were shed over his cutting words, he wanted to know it so he could make up for every single one.

Felix didn’t bother in drying his watery face anymore, and he looked up and stared at the wall across the room with a lost expression and let her torture consume him.

Flattery don’t charge these batteries civilian…Like fun you are short stack… Look, you’re a nice guy I can’t just…Enough with the goo goo eyes, we’ve got work to do!...Your face is still red you might want to hit it again with your hammer…Fix-it, Wreck-it, the arcade is about to open, let’s move ‘em out!...Call me…Hey there fix-it…you don’t look too bad yourself…So, no Ice cream?...I just think it’s better with two…I trust you too…I love you…Tammy, you can call me that now…So this project of yours, is that why you’ve been leaving early?...I love you, and I don’t want to go home yet…Yes, yes!..About time you asked me you crazy 8 bit handy man…I don’t want to hear one more word out of you…hey short stack…are you mad?...just don’t blow your top, I get enough in the day...Fix-it stop!...Don’t you dare come after me over something you know nothing about!…

The sudden blare of the alarm clock cut through his nightmare turned dream. Felix jumped at the sudden sound and turned to see the red glowing numbers marking the start of a new working day. He took a breath and slumped in his seat.  Up all night, again.

Felix rubbed his tired eyes and could feel their puffiness. Everyone was going to notice he just hoped they wouldn’t ask. Sluggishly Felix picked up the noisy alarm to turn it off but knocked something off his nightstand with the motion.  He clicked the switch to off and the room fell into a still silence again.  Felix stretched over the nightstand and turned a lamp on so he could look for whatever it was that he dropped.

It was a small piece of blank paper that landed at his feet on the floor.  Felix slid of his bed and carelessly picked it up and flipped it over to see if it was of importance.  When he saw what was on the other side he froze.

The photograph had been taken by Vanellope about a couple of weeks after Felix and Calhoun had become an official couple on that Valentine’s Day a year ago. Tamora had chosen the activity that time and they had spent the night shooting robots in the game Terminator Salvation. As the new couple came down game central station after the date Vanellope had insisted on a photograph.

Tamora was clad in her armor that was splashed with oil and scuffed from the battle. Her hair was tussled and dabs of dirt streaked her face. She wore a devilish smirk on her face and was holding up one of her large space guns.  Felix was in the picture too.

Tamora had picked him up piggy-back style so he could be seen in the photograph. He was holding onto her shoulder with one hand and with the other he displayed his own blaster with a bashful smile. His hat was on backwards, his shirt was not tucked, and his face was also smudged with dirt and oil.

Felix held the picture tightly in his hands and felt his heart rip farther down. What was he doing? He loved that gal more than he was able to feel, and enough to stop feeling sorry for himself and chasing her down to tell her that he had been an idiot, that it was all his fault, that he loved her, and wanted to fix everything.

Felix looked at the clock frantically and saw that there were still a couple of hours before the arcade opened.  He carefully set the photograph back on his nightstand taking one last look for bravery and then slapped his hat on his head, not bothering to comb his hair first.  He tucked in his wrinkled shirt as he ran out of his room to his front door, but stopped short as he turned the knob, remembering his hammer in the corner of his
bedroom.  

Felix almost went back to get it, but he stopped himself.  He didn’t need it, and didn’t want it for this.  Nope. He was done hiding behind that hammer.  It was just going to be him standing outside Tamora’s door.  

Felix changed his facial expression in to sheer determination and ran out the door.