This was several kinds of insane, each a different shade to the ones he was used to. He wasn't above admitting that it was starting to scare him. It seemed worse than it had when he woke up in the middle of the night, and then he could put it off to the hour and his tired mind, but now awake and alert it somehow seemed worse. Now without giving it a second though his mind was associating the people he knew around him with the characters of the dream. It should be simple enough to sort out just remind yourself that they don't exist, like that imaginary friend you had when you were younger. It should not have been this much of a problem for him to disassociate the two characters in his head, or at least it should not worry him so much.
But no it was not that simple, when he had looked at Leigh he had confused her for Leah however, he had felt in that single moment all the feelings Loki felt for her. His heart beat faster and his chest felt heavy and hollow, like when an elevator drops to many floor too quickly. The pain the regret the sorrow, the all hit him like it had really been him that had lived through them; it should not feel like this. For one; he should not be echoing the feelings of a character he only dreamed, and two this was Leigh. She was his foster sister, although there was no blood relation between the two it didn't sit right, and if he was subconsciously in charge of his dreams, the he was to blame for his alter ego and his romantic fixation with Leah, and if he had subconsciously linked Leah with Leigh, well what did that say about him.
It had been almost an hour since Helen and Leigh had left for the mall, and all that Luke could do was sit frozen in the same spot they had left him. He had long since pushed the decaying grey matter that once was his breakfast away from him and was sitting slouched in the uncomfortable wooden dinning chair. His head had been going in these same circles since the pair had left, and he was still no closer to finding out what he should do about it. He had to think about this pragmatically, he had to first accept that he was insane. Once that was over he could try to pick up the tattered pieces of his psyche. Ok so he was mad, he had always known that, first step accomplished, now what. He through his head back, matted hair falling limply off of his face, and let out a sigh. He uncrossed his arms from where they sat on the front of his chest, and rubbed his face desperately clawing like it held the answer, when that helped little he ran his hands though his hair only to find them stuck in the matted locks, well that was gross, just because he was mad did not mean he had to be gross. He stood up many people think better in the shower who is to say that he was not one of them. In fact yes he did most of his best thinking in the shower! That theory that turned out to be correct for Doctor who, that Sherlock fanfiction that got over 100 comments, yea all good thoughts come in the shower!
Evidently not all good thoughts come in the shower he had been in there for just under half an hour and nothing had struck him, well accept that Leigh's strawberry shampoo had in all actuality probably never seen a strawberry in its life, perhaps at one point the bottle had been shown an image of a strawberry but that was as close as the chemical sweet scented liquid came. That is not to say however that it did not leave his main in a glorious condition. He had got dressed again and his cloths clung to him in an uncomfortable fashion as his frame was still wet. He threw himself down on his bed, he had really hoped that some form of idea would come to him but, well it just wasn't there. He sat up and towel dried his hair tossing the towel in the washing basket, he reached into his top drawer and pulled from it the large and tatty, why was everything he owned so old and run down, A4 note pad and pen, as he balanced it on his knee and started to take down notes. Everything he knew about the dream world, about Asgardia, the people he would write it down. That was as good an idea as he had at the moment, not it down then try to work it out. If he had based Leah and Hela on Helen and Leigh, then there must be other people in his town, people that he had unconsciously wrote into his dreams that made up the rest. If he could work out all the bits of the dream he could work on disassociating himself from the dream entirely, prove to himself that it was all some horrid ploy from his twisted subconscious.
It wasn't much but at the moment it was the best plan that he had. The day grew late and the bright morning sun had turned to the warm orange of the late afternoon. And the large silver SUV, careered to a slow halt in the drive way. Doors closed with muffled thuds and the rustling of bags, and keys and doors opening, closing. Leigh and Helen where home, but it did little to draw him from his concentration. He sat on the floor of his room, papers strewn around with his scribbled handwriting and sketches drawn by shaky hands, surrounding him. He had been at it for hours and he was determined to write all that was in his head down, like releasing the pressure from a bottle of soda, he hoped it would free up space for him to think.
So deep in his thoughts was he he missed the padding of feet on the wooden floors of the hall the rustle of bags, not until the sound of his door opening reached his ears did he snap out of his concentration. Leigh stood in the door way with a bag of drive through in her hand staring inquisitively at him, and the mess of papers.
"God Leigh, don't you know how to knock!" He made a mad scramble to collect all of the papers to himself, lest she see any of the information he had so tirelessly jotted down. But she made no bid to move, she only stood there, eyes questioning him as though he had not finished his sentence and she hung for the ending. "I mean I could be doing, anything in here!"
At this she cracked a smile.
"No Luke, that which you refer to is to normal for someone like you being caught at." She shrugged lifting her hands in defeat. "But if the pretence makes you happy I shall endeavour to knock next time." The grin was still present on her face, though why he was staring so intently as to notice he would rather ignore. She made to move forward the bad held forward in an offering gesture.
"Here, we brought you back drive through." She held her hand forward towards him, and he reached out to take the bag from her hand, unfolding it he reached inside to remove one of the French fries from the top.
"You still look terrible." He heard the statement but he didn't have to look up to meet her gaze he could picture it. The look that said she was resigning herself to the fact that she was actually concerned about him. He had seen it before, but not on her face. Perhaps he should look, prove that they were not the same person. So he did, he looked up and met the look he felt like they had seen several times before in another world. He sighed, this was taking him nowhere fast.
"Yea? Thanks, I feel a lot worse than I look I can assure you." He rummaged into the bag for another one of the fries. "Thanks for the drive through, did you and Helen have a good time?" it was pathetic he knew but he wanted to avoid as many question as he could the pathetic small talk was all he could manage. And as his eyes lifted to watch for her reply she dropped hers, hands fell to her side and she slowly turned to make for the door again, three quarter view to him she answered but never spared him a glance as she left.
"Yea it was ok, you should be in bed, if you feel worse than you look maybe we should call you an ambulance." She waved a dismissive hand as she passed through the threshold of his room, and she was gone. He needed to sort this out; it was starting to really freak him out.