Twice Shy
AN: Set after Outcast, could be a one-shot. Convince me to continue?
Twice Shy
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1982 – Earth
He ran his right hand through his messy hair. He dropped his right arm back, next to his side and ran his left hand through his hair. He knew nothing would change how it looked, but the impulse to keep himself even was too strong to override this time.
He sighed, and sighed again. The desire had been calling to him all week and this was the first time he gave into it since moving to California.
"John!" his brother called through the bathroom door, "Hurry up! We're gonna be late."
John tugged on the hem of his uniform jacket twice and gave a final stare at his reflection.
He had to stop. The behavior was weird and he had to stop. But it felt so wrong not to do it.
He touched the doorknob with his left hand and twisted right. He let go. And he touched the doorknob with his right hand, twisting the handle left and opening the door. He walked through and made sure that it was his left hand that closed it.
This was why he didn't want to give in. Once he did, it was so hard to stop.
"Johnny!" his brother banged on the stair case.
"Coming!" he yelled back as he quickly ran down the thirteen steps and resisted the urge to step back up on the last step to go back down. He knew if he did, his brother might tell their father.
He brushed by his brother on the way out of the door and couldn't help but bang himself slightly against the doorway.
Today was their first day at Lincoln High and if he could keep from giving in too much, then he could at least pretend to be normal at school. Then again, even if things didn't work out, his dad would probably be stationed in a new city in about six months.
His brother turned into the senior parking lot and found a spot quickly.
"It's back." David muttered and turned off the engine, the keys clinging together lightly.
There was no point in hiding it, at least from his big brother. "Never really left," he shrugged and licked his lips. The tip of his tongue moving from right to left and then left to right.
David nodded tiredly and stuck his keys in his front pocket. "Come on; let's get this day over with."
He slipped a few times but he knew it could be so much worse. At least he had some control now. The best thing was to distract himself: listen to the teachers, make small talk, think about calculus, or smile at the pretty girl who wasn't paying attention. Do anything at all to keep from himself from switching the pencil from his right hand to his left.
He could do it. He had to do it.
He could keep to the small things. Running his left hand through his hair, then his right. Tugging at his jacket's hem once, twice. Licking his lips, right to left, then left to right. Opening his locker with his left hand and closing it with his right. Keep off the cracks in the hall ways. Four steps between the lines on the sidewalk. Left foot over the line, then the right. Chew his food on one side of his mouth, the next bite would go to the other side. Same with his sips of water. Bounce his right foot five times, then his left five times, repeat.
He wanted to touch the doorknobs with his left hand, then his right before he had to open it. He wanted to straighten up the posters on the wall. He wanted to pick up the papers that littered the hallways. He wanted to tuck in the labels that stuck out of t-shirts. He wanted to slam his locker shut, open it, and slam it shut again. He wanted to switch the pencil from his right hand to his left, but the writing would be illegible. Other people would notice and he didn't want that to happen.
By the time he got home the compulsions were practically driving him insane and he knew he was about to break soon.
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Present – Atlantis
Oh, god. He was doing so well before this.
He pulled off the blanket on his bed and folded it squarely. Leaving it on his table he pulled off the sheets and folded them as well before tossing them into what passed for a hamper.
He had kept to the little things, which were practically all he had now since Atlantis had automatic everythings.
Grabbing new sheets, he began to systematically remake his bed.
He had been able to ignore the impulses effortlessly ever since he had arrived in Atlantis.
Finishing off his bed he moved onto his desk. He straightened out a few papers unnecessarily and moved his box of paper clips against the wall.
He supposed that could have something to do with being in constant peril. But there were downtimes when he could feel the pull to tug on his jacket or to run his left hand through his hair, then his right. He found himself licking his lips once or twice, but he was pretty sure that most people found that act as a nervous tick. Which it essentially was, they just didn't know how deep it ran.
Six steps into his bathroom. Left foot in first means his right foot was going to be the first to leave. Four steps brought him in front of the mirror.
It was probably too much to hope for. These kinds of things don't just disappear, they go into hiding. Probably waiting for something like this to wake it up fully.
Staring at his reflection, he couldn't help but run his left hand through his hair, and then his right. He couldn't remember the times he had done this but he knew that this was the first since stepping through the gate.
So many deaths were on his hands but it was going home, finding out that his dad had passed on and seeing his brother and Nancy again that brought him to this. Maybe Earth was to blame for this.
He was about to wash his hands but made himself lower his hands to grip the sink.
No, he wouldn't fall into this. It would be so hard to stop as it was.
There was no way that he could let anyone find out. Too many depended on him here. Especially because of the new command.
He looked down to find his knuckles white, he breathed in and relaxed the death grip he had on the sink. He slowly lowered his hands to his side, stopped himself from tugging at his hem, and looked back at his reflection.
He had to ignore the compulsions. He could be strong, he can suppress them.