[Untitled]
THIS IS OBVIOUSLY A LOT DEEPER THAN WE FIRST THOUGHT, HUH?"
Puck's mind was still a million miles away, as he stared out the window at the passing scenery while Anders drove them back to to [sic] the college. Anders peered over at him; saw he wasn't listening, and cleared his throat loudly.
Puck sniffed. "Hm?"
"I said this goes a lot deeper than we thought."
"Yeah," Puck said, turning away again.
"Well don't you have anything to say?"
Puck looked at him. "Such as?"
Anders sighed and shrugged. "Puck, how come you're putting everything off?"
Puck snorted. "You're one to talk."
"I was one to talk. I would have been the one to talk. But now I'm not. Listen to you, Puck! It's like you don't believe in this."
"Maybe I don't," Puck said uneasily, still staring out the window.
Anders slammed on the brakes. The two of them were pitched forward, and Puck was thankful for the seatbelt law or else his face would be enjoined to the dashboard. [Note--misuse of the word "enjoin," as I have only just learned. It means nothing whatsoever like "to join to." Oops.] He glared at Anders, who stared back in amazement.
"What are you talking about?" he exclaimed.
Puck shrugged and nodded viciously at Anders's foot, indicating him to continue driving. Anders did so. "What I'm talking about is now I'm not so sure it is aliens. Maybe it is my imagination."
Anders snorted this time, still amazed. "God, Puck! Don't tell me you're going to be the skeptic now!"
"And why shouldn't I be?"
Anders swerved over onto the shoulder, braked, and put the car in park. He unfastened his seatbelt and turned to look Puck in the eye. Puck's own gaze faltered after a moment, and he had to look at the seat between them.
"Don't tell me that after all I've been through, all of a sudden you're just not going to believe," Anders said.
Puck managed to force his gaze back up to meet Anders's. The Swede was looking angry now, like they'd been on their way to the chapel to get married and Puck had gotten cold feet. It was a weird analogy, and Puck had to force himself not to laugh. Anders in a wedding gown... [Note--now that is a weird analogy, because all throughout prepping this story for posting I have been forcing myself not to spout out a disclaimer like, "THESE TWO ARE NOT GAY AND THEY ARE NOT IN LOVE!!" Because honestly, they really hang out with each other. A LOT. So...now that we're on the subject...no! They are not!]
"I'm just not sure anymore," he said.
"God!" Anders turned away, looked up and around, then flung his hands up and banged them on the steering wheel. Puck flinched. "After all this! Only after all this! The dreams, Puck. The dreams and the sessions! The dreams and the memories! And now that you've got me thinking you're pulling out!" [Note--get your mind out of the gutter.]
"I never said I was pulling out of anything." Puck was quick to defend himself. "I only said--"
"Is the reason you're doing this is that you're afraid?"
Puck cut himself off abruptly, surprised, then spoke up again. "No it isn't! I'm not afraid of anything!"
Anders just stared at him, saying nothing. Puck's protest faded out prematurely, and he was left staring out the window, anything to avoid Anders's accusing gaze. When Anders spoke up, it was barely a whisper.
"You are afraid."
"I am not."
Anders nodded, as if realizing something he'd never been able to fathom. "Yes you are. I saw how you reacted when you remembered the time. When Al talked about masking. You were thinking of the deer you saw, the day Rosie disappeared. The thing is, that wasn't a deer you saw."
Puck tried to stand up, only to realize almost too late that he was in a car. So he fumbled with the door handle, found it was locked, so pulled viciously on the lock and nearly broke the door letting himself out. [Note--er--he didn't unbuckle himself??] "It was a damn deer that I saw, and nothing else! You can go on thinking the Martians are talking to you because I'm not going along with it!"
"Puck, we need to talk to Al--"
"I'm through talking to Al!"
"--He can help you!"
"Forget it!" Puck slammed the door shut and stormed off down the road. His breath was already coming fast from his duel with the door, and he clenched his teeth so it hissed through; his fists clenched as well as he walked. For a while he heard nothing except the ringing in his ears which had started up when they'd first left Al's and had gotten louder at the door slamming; then he heard the car start up again and pull up behind him, honk once, twice, three times for his attention.
Puck, without turning, gave it the finger.
The horn blared so loudly his teeth rattled; he stopped and clamped his hands to his ears, the ringing growing to a shattering screech that made him sway dizzily. He could hear it roar past him, feel it spray gravel against him; something snapped and all of a sudden the ringing stopped. With it his knees went out as well; he collapsed into the grass at the roadside as the ring was replaced by a nearly-soothing hum. He took his left hand away and saw blood; he dimly remembered Anders.
I will not freak out I will not freak out I will not freak out--
Instead, he merely passed out; he heard a very faint grinding and felt gravel before his vision faded to black.
Puck.
He breathed out his nose; everything was dark and that confused him, since it was only supposed to be midday.
Puck.
Was that voice calling his name? Or was he just hearing things? Puzzled, he turned his head but still couldn't see anything; he wondered if he were in a dark room, or if he'd gone blind, just like Gavin.
PUCK!
Something smacked him across the face, hard. Instantly his eyes popped open, and the world was flooded with light. He had to squint; the light hurt, and he was still dizzy. As soon as his eyes grew adjusted, he started blinking and looking around to see where he was.
There were several shapes hovering over him, turned to silhouettes by the light. Why was someone shining that thing in his face? Didn't they know it hurt his eyes?
He continued blinking until the figures swam into focus. He recognized Anders, to his left; he must have picked him up when he passed out in the road. To his right was Sid; he wondered what she was doing there. Shouldn't she be working at the Gen-X? In front of him was Gavin, Gavin with his big round glasses, staring down at him--or rather, towards him. He blinked again.
"Are you all right?" Sid asked anxiously.
Puck tried to push himself up with his arms; as soon as he was sitting up everything began to blur again. He put his head down between his knees, trying to regain his balance. After a moment things felt right again, so he looked up.
He was in the frat house, Adelphic Pi. He looked around. The clocks read 7:22. Wow. Was it really that late?
"What the hell happened?" he murmured groggily.
"You passed out," Anders said, looking ticked. "I had to come back and pick you up because you didn't have the smarts to get in the car. You flipped me off, you moron."
"Good for me."
"Are you all right?" Sid asked him again, putting her hand on his shoulder. He looked at her blurrily. A crazy thought flitted through his mind. She likes me? She likes me not? He shook his head furiously, causing her to draw back.
"That ear infection still not going away?" Gavin inquired.
"I don't know if it's an ear infection."
At first Puck thought he'd said it; then he realized it was Anders who had spoken. Lord, I must be bad! he thought. I can't even separate Anders from myself!
"Then what is it?" Sid's voice came to him out of a haze.
"I don't know... Puck! Don't you go out again!"
What are you talking about? I'm just fine. But his head wasn't; now he realized he hadn't spoken, but had fainted again. The voices of the three surrounding him blurred into one jumble and faded out altogether.
"Flytraps."
Puck's eyelids dragged open again. "Huh?" he asked the air. For the first time he seriously started to wonder if he were going mad. If so, it wasn't such a bad feeling, except for the dizziness.
"Did you notice that Al grows flytraps?"
"How do you grow a flytrap?" Puck asked, rubbing his eyes.
"...Venus flytraps."
"Oh. So?"
The voice blurred around his brain; some of the words he could make out, others he couldn't. "...Not indigenous to Michigan."
"Oh."
His vision started to come around again; he realized he was in a bed in the first aid center. But he still had no idea who'd been talking to him. It wasn't a voice he recognized. And he knew that if he tried to get up anytime soon, he'd be yawning in technicolor [sic].
"...Feeling all right?"
"Yeah, I guess so."
"...Been here for hours."
"You or me?"
"...Us both."
That got him; must be another sick case. "What're you doing here?"
"'Panic attack.'"
Now things started to fall into place. Puck had heard the words "panic attack" before, and they were always in conjunction with the same person. So why...?
He struggled to sit up again, clenching his teeth against the wave of nausea that hit him. I will not throw up. He swung his legs off the edge of the cot and rubbed his temples, then looked up, blinking against the light.
"I wish they'd turn it down."
A form began to take shape before him; blurry at first, a mere splash of colors against the stark whiteness of the walls, then slowly dividing into separate shapes. Before him sat a young man about his age, with light brown hair and blue eyes. He looked familiar, though Puck knew he'd never seen him--at least, not up close and personal.
"Gabe," he said.
The man smiled, a haunted smile; he had dark rings under his eyes and looked half-crazy himself. "Feeling better now?"
"D'they give me a shot?"
Gabriel nodded. "Me too." He held up his arm and looked at it, wincing. Puck took it that he didn't like needles very much.
"How long've I been here?"
"All night."
"What time is it?"
"About half past nine."
Puck noticed the clock on the wall and looked up at it; he was surprised it wasn't 2:47. But he must have been knocked out at the time. "God. They put me out good."
"You can say that again."
Puck shook his head; at last he felt the last of the dizziness clearing away. "Matthew Benteen," he said idly, holding out his hand across the gap between the beds.
"Gabriel Barrymore."
"Yeah, I know."
That strange smile again. "That obvious?" [Note--well, considering that he just called you Gabe...]
Puck tried to smile back, but his face hurt. In fact, his whole body hurt. "You're famous for your panic attacks."
Something changed in Gabriel's smile; now he wasn't so guarded anymore. Puck couldn't be certain, but he even seemed to relax a little. "Tell me, Puck," he said, and Puck realized he must be known as well, though not for panic attacks, "have your dreams been saying anything to you?"
"Hell yeah."
Another barrier went down. "So do you think I'm crazy?"
"Of course not."
"Whenever you tell people your dreams are talking to you, they say you're crazy."
"Well, you're not. If they were telling you you were Pizarro, then maybe you're crazy."
A laugh; he'd actually gotten a laugh out of this guy. "Bizarro Pizarro."
"You can say that again."
Puck pushed himself up and planted his feet on the floor, trying not to sway too much. Come on, he thought. How long will this last? "Come here often, Gabe?" he asked, as he tested his legs. The floor was icy cold, even for midsummer.
"Yes. Too often. I think Damon's thinking of shipping me off to Northampton." [Note--remember Northampton? From The Scorpio Murders and The Pro? I believe it's also mentioned at the end of Lucifer, but Lucifer isn't among my early writing, so...]
Puck dimly recognized the name of the mental institution in the UP; he felt a pang of remorse. "Of course he's not really thinking that."
"Yes he is. You know, he's taken care of me like a little brother. And I'm the older brother." Another chuckle.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. Either you're as sane as everybody else, or everybody else is mad just like you. So don't worry."
"Watch your back."
Puck looked behind him, then gasped. Hospital gowns! He hated hospital gowns. Luckily it had stayed closed when he'd gotten up; he quickly bent his arms back and tied it to make sure. "Damn things! Can't they make them with a front and a back?"
This time Gabriel burst into full-fledged laughter.
Puck tried to look over his shoulder to make absolutely certain it was tied well; when he couldn't, he gave up and sighed, rubbing his throbbing head. Gabriel still sat perched on the edge of his cot, chuckling. That's two laughs, Puck thought. Maybe I'm good for this guy.
Instead of saying anything, he limped to the door--his ankle hurt now, and he realized he must have either twisted or landed on it when he fell down beside the road. He reached the door and pulled it open.
"Where are you going?" Gabriel asked, sounding dismayed.
Puck tried to think of something witty or wise to say, but nothing popped into his head except, "I don't know." He turned to peer at Gabriel, who stared back. "If anybody ever asks you if your dreams talk to you, Gabe, you tell them whatever the hell you want--and don't even think twice about where they might send you."
A faint smile this time. "Bye, Puck."
"Bye, Gabe." Turning, he slipped out of the room, retrieved his clothes before any of the interns could notice, and left. [Note--shouldn't that be "nurses"? I have no clue how such places work.]
He changed in one of the bathrooms in the hallway, knowing he'd look very silly exiting in a hospital gown; as soon as he'd exited the building he blinked and squinted, holding up his hands to his eyes again; the sun was in the east, shining brightly, and the fair rides were already going. He touched his left ear, looking at his fingers. They came back dry. He turned to go to the fairgrounds only to stop and yelp.
Anders had been sitting on the bench right outside the first aid center; as soon as Puck cried out he awoke and jumped up with surprise. When he saw it was only Puck, a scowl returned to his face and he rubbed his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Puck asked.
"I had the feeling you might try to make your escape when you woke up," Anders replied. "And I was right. You should get back in there before you pass out again."
"How many times did I pass out?"
"Twice! God, don't you remember?"
"Yeah, I remember. Chill out, Anders. I was just kidding. I was in there all night?"
"Yes. They gave you a shot because you were rambling."
"Were you there when they brought in Gabe?"
Anders blinked. "Yeah, I was. How did you--"
"It's obvious, Anders. He's still in there. What was he doing when they brought him in?"
"Screaming, mostly. Freaking out. He was kind of clawing at the air."
"At the lights? The hall lights?"
Anders frowned now. "Yeah."
"Was he screaming anything important?"
"Mostly just screams. But he kind of said a couple things; like he didn't want to be brought in there. He didn't like the light." Anders shuddered and winced. "He was loud. It's a wonder he didn't break the glass in the hallway windows." You're one to speak, Puck thought, but left it unsaid. "You should have seen him when they brought out the needle."
Puck was the one to shudder this time, rubbing his arm where he was sure they must have given him his injection. [Note--what kind of college is this?? Do they carry Vicodin too?? Eh...] "You don't need ot [sic] tell me."
Anders sighed and shuffled his feet. "I'm sure you've read that newspaper article, huh?"
"Of course, Anders. Everybody has. It's a wonder they haven't named Gabe Abductee of the Month."
"It's not funny, Puck."
"I never said it was. But remember, we're going through the exact same thing here--at least, I think we are." Even as he said it, he felt himself growing uncomfortable, and his voice tapered off. Anders, however, stood up straighter and looked him in the eye--or at least tried to. Puck started averting his gaze again.
"Why don't you just come out and say it, Puck?" he pressed. "Come on. You haven't even bothered to yet. Not directly. Why don't you face up to it?"
"You're one to talk," Puck said, finally.
"Yes, I am. And so are you. Come on, say it. 'Anders and I are alien abductees. Say it. Say it."
"All right, damn it!" Puck snapped. "Anders and I are alien abductees! There! Are you happy now? Can you sleep better at night?" Again, realizing too late the irony of his words.
Anders only stepped back and crossed his arms, not even bothering to grin triumphantly. "There," he said. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Maybe it's not that hard to say," Puck replied thinly, "but it sure as hell is hard to believe."
"Yeah, well, that's your burden to bear, not mine. As soon as you convert somebody you can't just walk out and change your religion. Not unless you want everybody else to follow your example."
"What I'm trying to say is that maybe it doesn't involve me," Puck tried to explain. Even as heh [sic] said it he felt some part in the back of his brain nagging at him that he wasn't making any sense, that he wasn't being logical, and he hated being illogical. "You, maybe, and Gabe definitely. But maybe I'm just not a part of it."
Anders snorted, nearly laughing. "Yeah? Now, what makes you think you're so special--you're so exempt?"
"I didn't say I was special anything!" Puck hissed, lunging forward, spitting his words into Anders's fasce [sic]. [Note--holy schmuck! I must have stopped proofreading and spellchecking at this chapter...or else I was drunk.] "You, you're the 'special' one! Remember who it is they chose to take! Who they chose to implant! Who they chose to--"
He cut himself off just short of saying what was on the verge of coming out, choking off a gasp as well at the thing he hadn't realized before. He shot a look at Anders, who only looked confused. Evidently he couldn't remember that much. Puck let his breath out, more from shock at this realization than from relief.
"They chose to what?" Anders askead [sic] softly.
Puck turned away and shook his head. "Never mind."
He caught Anders's look before he turned his head completely; it was one of open dismay and appallment. [Note--hey look, I think I made up another word...at least, it's not in my dictionary...] "Chose to what?" he echoed, stepping forward and grabbing Puck by the arm. "Tell me!"
"You wouldn't understand it and you don't want to know." Not even knowing how he knew.
"You're not telling me something here! I want to know what it is!"
Puck whirled around, taking Anders's hand from his arm and catching his eyes. For a moment they stared at each other.
"You dont' [sic] want to know," he finally said, softly.
Anders could only gape back, mouth open.
Puck seized his chance and turned away again, leaving Anders behind.
He's going to want to be alone once and if he realizes what they're up to, he thought numbly to himself.
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