A/N: Hello! Some of you may know me from the Jackie and Eric fan fiction, 'Alone Together,' that I wrote a while back. I've decided to keep the same concept in this story (I changed the plot obviously) and maybe other stories I may write in the future so I hope those who have read 'Alone Together' don't find it repetitive. Also, feel free to check out my profile :).
Chapter 1.
September 25, 1978
A bearded Eric stood statuary with cold hands in the pockets of his burnt-orange leather jacket, waiting for the barbed-wire prison gate to open in the gentle evening wind. It hadn't registered within that he was finally free after being incarcerated for three months and seventeen days. Even wearing the now tight navy-blue shirt and jeans he was thrown into the cop car in, rather than the mandatory orange jumpsuit he grew attuned to sporting, still left him unconvinced. Eric should feel overjoyed he was let out due to mistaken identity of the murder of an elderly man and attempted murder of his friend, having the charges dropped completely and receiving monetary compensation, or as he would put it 'hush money,' of one-thousand and five hundred dollars plus the six-hundred and eighty-two dollars he had to begin with; but jail and events previous to his arrest stripped his endearing smile.
No amount of money could compensate for the unjust time served, witnessing beatings and attempted homicides from afar. To protect himself, Eric learned quickly to not make friends through observation seeing it was mainly what caused the quarrels, and being invisible was key to being invulnerable; strength training also helped him in that department. The precautions he took led to his fortune in simplicity, not having any problems relating to the Wisconsin Correctional Institution. Although, his involuntary stay gave him a lot of time to dwell on the house in doldrums he left behind.
His father, Red, became sickly distant in a cold manner and his mother, Kitty, an alcoholic when a tragedy transpired on May 12, 1978. Kitty drowned her sorrows in liquid form, preferably with tequila, which resulted in the demise of home-made meals, sober conversation, and attention and comfort towards her son who was left to grieve all alone. Red didn't agree with her method of coping but condoned it since it was all that could console and rid Kitty of reality so they didn't have to talk about it, which was a cowardly move from Eric's viewpoint. Despite Red's upbringing of bottling innermost feelings of grief or else you would be perceived as something less of a patriarch, that man could be heard sniffling every night on the cold bathroom floor. Maybe that's the reason why he stopped making eye contact with Eric; he didn't want his son to see the vulnerability in his moist grays. He stopped raising his voice too, even if Eric neglected his household chores. It was weird, so weird, Eric neglected the daily routine purposely, yearning for the day he'd be called a dumbass again.
But when those nonverbal cries for attention went without a reaction from his parents, Eric felt like a cipher, sometimes wanting to scream, 'Hey, I'm still here.' He was ignored, and when he was widely recognized, pitied. That led to the seeking of someplace where he would be acknowledged, no longer a charity case to his four other friends that hung out in his basement and to skip Kitty's disgorge from excessive drinking. He never found that place, but he did however find someone who could relate and knew their limits. That person was his foster-brother, Steven Hyde.
June 8, 1978 (Three months and seventeen days before)
Steven had conjured the bright idea to have a midnight toke atop the water tower, and of course, Eric wasn't going to decline participation in the consumption. Their legs dangled over the rusty platform where they sat as the cool night breeze, strong enough to dry an eye if a blink was a second late, blew their hair in disarray. The liveliness of Kenosha served as a nightlight against the pitch black backdrop and the moon marbled like arabescato. Hyde pinched the flame of a clear red cigarette lighter and said once he peeked at his bummed out brown-haired friend, "Come on, man, cheer up. I told you not to get too excited."
"Was it that unrealistic of a prospective to expect my own parents to attend my graduation? No," Eric yelled, his voice echoing while the bare branches of trees danced in the wind creepily. "Even though they haven't been themselves lately for almost a month now, I was really hoping they would at least be there for me today, clapping after my name was announced and taking embarrassing photos of me. Had Kitty not have drunk man...and Dad doesn't even try to stop it," he clenched his fist angrily around the wrinkled brown paper bag he pulled out of his jacket pocket.
Steven huffed in agreement, "Yeah, I know what you mean, Forman. I've been in your position all my life but I eventually got over it." Eric threw daggers that penetrated Hyde's faded lenses. "Well of course I don't expect you to get over it, man," he defended his statement. "It's just crazy, you know. I was so jealous of you because of your mother, someone who is hip yet bakes from scratch and pinches cheeks...but now, Kitty has turned into Edna, except she abuses herself."
"I, uh, miss being called a dumbass," Eric smiled, "and...being yelled at for not sweeping the driveway or taking out the garbage before the trash man comes. I miss Mom giving me a kiss that doesn't reek of alcohol and being welcomed to the sight of her measuring granulated sugar after school. Dude, I'm afraid I forgot what bacon and waffles tastes like," he chuckled as he began to prepare their drug of choice.
Hyde placed a hand on Eric's shoulder, wondering how to respond. His shell might have been dull and hard on the outside but inside, he was a bright soft yolk; and it hurt him to watch his friend who usually kept everyone on their feet be so miserable. "You know what would keep your mind off of it, Forman? Hanging out with Donna, Fez, Kelso and I. We don't have as much fun since you hardly come to the basement but we try. Why don't you ever join us or even bother to talk to them? It's better to have company in a time like this than to be aloof, you know?"
Eric glanced at Hyde after he licked the paper and answered, "I like being desolate. I'm like Travis Bickle, I'm God's lonely man." When he did go down to the basement they behaved like puppets anyway, sparing him of their harsh jokes regarding his wiry frame and obsessive interest in Marvel Comics and outer space. They were his escape, his hide-out when he was in trouble but they failed to do the one thing he wanted; treat him as if nothing had ever happened. "Damn-it, I just wish everything would go back to the way it was," he whispered as he rolled the paper. "By the way, tell your girlfriend to stop bringing casserole's from Midge over with scriptures of hope taped to the Tupperware."
"Donna's just trying to be nice, man. As long as you and your parents refuse to accept the truth that-," his brain caught up with his mouth, "what happened happened, nothing will ever get better. You need to sit back, think about, don't forget it but keep on truckin'. Think about it," Hyde urged before he took the joint to light it and take a hit.
Eric knew what he was implying but didn't dare think about it. The photos that adorned the surfaces of most end tables except his was a constant reminder. "Yeah, well, that incident should have drawn the family closer together if anything. Instead, they choose to punish me," he said as he accepted the hemp from a choking antichrist and inhaled it orally. "But hey," Eric coughed while his mood noticeably changed as well as the white of his eyes, "I've got three suitcases in the trunk of the Vista Cruiser. I lied and told them I was going to teach in, get this, Africa," he exclaimed and slapped his knee when a silent chuckle rattled his shoulders. "Can you believe it?"
The not-so-funny departure would probably make Kitty's condition deteriorate further but Eric didn't think about that before taking action. Knowing that, a sober Hyde would've talked him out of leaving but under the circumstances, he giggled, "Where are you planning on going then, man?"
"To the dark side," Eric quickly answered before he passed the joint. "Except...I would inflict only positive emotions; happiness."
"No, no, no," Hyde stood up while Eric mirrored his action. "The Dark side is dark for a reason, Forman. There can only be negative emotions. And you call yourself a die-hard fan," he scrutinized, probably looking at him under his nose behind his unnecessary accessory.
Eric tsked and wagged his index finger before he debated, "The film may depict The Dark side as a concept of evil but it can stem from both positive and negative emotions according to the Expanded Universe, you see. Had you not been sucking Donna's face during the majority of the movie, maybe you would've learned a thing or two rather than trying to size me up with little to no knowledge. I," he tapped his chest, "am the galaxy genius, baby."
"The galaxy genius, baby," Hyde mocked, "what a dork. I already watched the movie with you, Kelso and Fez so what was the point of watching it again? By the way man," he began after catching a glimpse of Eric's knitted foot coverings, "I don't care what people wear...ever, but leaving the house in pink socks is unforgivable."
"In my defense," Eric held his hands up, "it was laundry day, alright, Heidi? Wait a minute, this isn't even about socks. This is about depriving womankind from the best movie of the century due to strong sexual urges in the backseat of the Vista Cruiser on the first of June, 1977!"
"Aw, did Forman feel like a third wheel," Hyde teased. "Come on, that was like, a year and seven days ago today and you're still not over it. Maybe you should've fooled around with the horny Fez who smelled heavily of Jamaican Fire cologne. And I wouldn't be too quick to say Star Wars is the best movie of the century. I mean have you seen the trailer for Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke?"
Eric wise-cracked with visible carbon escaping his mouth, "Yes, and might I say, it looks pretty dope. Ho, ho, pun-intended, pun-in-tended. Oh my God, do you know what I just thought about? Do you remember the fight between Kelso and his annoying ex-girlfriend Jackie during the movie, Star Wars I mean?"
Hyde clapped three times while chuckling, "That was good stuff! He called her Leia while they were making out and when she questioned him about it, his response was, 'Well, how can I not think about the Princess of Alderaan while tonguing another chick? She's so hot, I mean, have you seen her without that shower curtain on, Jackie? I'm sorry but there's no competing for my attention when it comes to Carrie Fisher, especially if you're a pubescent fifteen year old girl," Hyde growled in an attempt to sound like Kelso. "She was so embarrassed, man. I loved it."
Eric ignored his last comment and agreed regarding her self-consciousness. "I know, I was there and had a front row seat. Despite her big mouth and...exceptionable comebacks, Jackie didn't say a word. She just slowly turned around to face the screen and scooted close to me, curled up even. I wanted so bad to comfort her or to ask her if she was alright but I knew she wasn't; I could hear her swallow the lump in her throat over and over again. I never felt more bad for the kid than at that moment."
Hyde shrugged and crossed his arms, resting against the water tank. "I did too but not more than I felt bad for myself since it interrupted Donna and I's hanky-panky. At the same time, I was happy 'cause I thought she'd stop coming to the basement but unfortunately she did, just to make Kelso jealous."
Eric leaned against the rail, making sure he wasn't near the faulty part. "Yeah...and with me of all people. She joined me in playing with my Star Wars action figures and knew what she was talking about when providing their voices or commentary. Boy, did that shock me. But then," he took a drag, "she wanted to hang out with me alone like...dates; bribing me to go to the mall with her in an exchange of white socks since she overheard Red telling me I looked like an ass in black ones after I ran buck-naked through President Ford's re-election campaign; which reminds me, I am surprised I'm still breathing being that Mr. Burkhart, the city councilman, arranged it. Anyway, I would decline her invitations and she would whine. Matter of fact, I declined just so I could see her whine; her puppy face was the best. You know, she was really cute," he admitted.
"I think you should have went out with her even though I hate her rainbow guts."
Eric raised his eyebrows and smiled at his strongly opinionated companion. "Really?"
"Sure. I mean, I'm going to sound like a chick right now but...you two would've made a great couple. You're everything she wanted yet lacked in her previous relationship with Kelso and you both share a lot of common interest, such as a knack for dolls-."
"Action figures," Eric intervened with emphasis. "They. Are. Action figures."
Hyde blinked dumbly behind his aviators, taking a long drag then continued, "Your love for roller skating and hatred for round things that fly-."
"That's it, stop it right there, bud," Eric warned, wagging his finger. "It was kindergarten in physical enrichments class where the most traumatizing game of dodge ball occurred. Coach Kelly ordered a shipment of," he swallowed and tugged on his jacket collar, "rubber balls rather than foam and...needless to say I was the smallest kid so." While Steven burst into laughter, Eric sarcastically urged, "Yeah, laugh it up 'cause that's-that's really funny." He put his hands on his hips and ignored the teasing for a second, contemplating what his friend had said earlier. He was pretty lonely and wouldn't mind Jackie's company, even though she could be annoying and mouthy at times. Plus, as far as he knew, she didn't know what happened a month ago which would make things a whole lot easier. "Anyway, since you've mentioned it, I guess I'll ask Jackie if she wants to hang out. She hasn't been coming to the basement lately has she? I haven't seen her since, damn, August of '77," he realized.
Hyde shrugged as he squished the joint under his boot and pulled out his knife, flipping it open briskly then closing it for no particular reason repeatedly. "I have no idea what happened to her and no, she hasn't been in the basement for a while. Donna tried getting a hold of her but she hasn't been responding to phone calls. Perhaps she moved; the house doesn't show a sign of occupation...at least car-wise."
Donna. She was the girl next door and although being a feminist tomboy, Eric had had a crush on her for years. He often wondered what his life would've been like had he kissed her after the Todd Rundgren concert, but he always saw disagreements and arguments in his fantasies considering how they operated as friends. He was always subject to her and Hyde's disputes and neither of them ever caved, scarring their pride and he just knew if they were in a relationship, she might have always gotten her way or walked all over him to get it. Despite their unlimited communication, Eric never knew how they came about as a couple. "Say, how did you and Donna become exclusive?"
"Well, after the Todd Rundgren concert I waited in her backyard, you know, drinking a beer or whatever and we talked about how you two didn't kiss which led to us kissing. I didn't ask her to be my girlfriend until the night we went to the disco though with that stupid song, Fernando," he said in a disgusted voice. "I freaking hate ABBA and all the time the song comes on she says, 'Oh Steven," he mocked Donna in her gravely voice, "let's dance." Hyde pretended she was in his arms as he spun around, a sudden movement that made him accidentally bump into the faulty rail, causing him to fall 20 feet off the water tower.
Eric laughed hysterically once he fell on his back against the cold ground with a thud. "Hey Hyde, how does it look down there," he asked, referring to the pot leaf they painted a year ago. Steven didn't respond with, 'It looks like it's giving me the finger, man,' but that didn't worry Eric since Kelso had fallen off plenty times before and walked away unscathed. After thirty seconds of chirping locusts while Hyde remained unresponsive, Eric started to panic.
He descended the tower as fast as he could to assess his curly-haired brother, calling his name and snapping his finger. "What does the car run on buddy, what does it run on," he asked over and over. It wasn't until he pulled Hyde up to a sitting position though when he noticed the knife he was playing with was embedded in his chest, stabbing him during or after the fall. Immediately, Eric ran out of the woods and across the street to the bowling alley to call the police. His paranoia was extremely high as he spoke to the operator, realizing he didn't check Hyde's pulse and perhaps he was bleeding internally, maybe an animal could be eating his unconscious body.
When the cops finally came, they charged Eric with attempted murder of Hyde, thinking he stabbed him and pushed him off the tower, and the murder of an elderly man. Steven couldn't defend his friend because he suffered a concussion after the impact, losing consciousness and ordered by nurses once he woke to practice cognitive rest. But luckily, Eric's friends were successful in keeping his whereabouts a secret from his parents, following through with his fabrication about teaching in Africa and hiding his car in Leo's garage. No matter how much they had disappointed Eric, Red and Kitty didn't deserve to know.
Present Day
Once the gate finally parted before Eric, he ran, just because he had no limits to as far as he could go until he spotted a red picnic table in a quiet park after a mile. He sat on the bench, panting while dazing at the sun that suspended in a clouded periwinkle sky and inhaled the smell of freshly mowed grass, realizing how much he overlooked hues. Yellow and green never seemed so beautiful after knowing no color beyond gray, black, white, and crimson; blood. And many other life forms caught his eye too, such as the white seagulls flying freely above and the black ants stealing leftovers from a saltine cracker while he scratched his scruffy beard.
He hated the facial hair he had longed for since he was twelve and figured purchasing a razor shall be the first thing he do being a free man. But tonight, he'd be even more free; at peace finally, if he remained alone. Perhaps he could buy an outfit so he'd look presentable. Just one change of clothes. Besides, after tonight, he'd be wearing a free black tuxedo.
