2. Chapter 2: A Whole New World

(Quentin's POV)

Quentin awakes lying on the ground and the first thing he feels is an immense wave of pain, numbing his need to understand what is going on. He instead screws his eyes closed tighter than ever before and grits his teeth. Pain. So much pain. Quentin spent what felt like forever rolling in agony on the floor. He struggled to regain enough focus and willpower to open his eyes to see what was happening. One thought trumped all others: the knowledge that he wasn't dead. This could always be him enduring the consequences of something he'd done wrong in life. It took a while but he mustered up enough strength to open one eye steadily to observe the surroundings. The cloud of pain swept in like a storm again and it was rendered pointless anyway. Everything was blurry and spinning all over the place wildly.

He moans aloud as more and more waves of pain crash inside his head. This caused him to pull himself into the fetal position to cry where he remained for what felt like an eternity. With the roller-coaster of a day, nothing seemed certain anymore, so he decided that he just needed to stay put and wait for his parents to get home so they could call an ambulance. Then he'd get the help he desperately needed. Quentin could sense the ebbing of time. He had regained his mental faculties during his wait, and now, with a better grasp of the situation, he started to outline everything that had happened. First, he asked why he was still here while it had been half an hour and his parents were usually back by 10. So where are they?

The tears finally started to subside and the pain started to recede. This lets Quentin unfurl himself to get some respite and finally start trying to piece together the puzzling life that has been handed him this time. Quentin didn't dare open his eyes for fear of the pain returning, so he decided to drag himself along the floor. He immediately knew that it wasn't the laminate bathroom flooring he expected it to be but coarse dirt and sand. It only became more absurd when, instead of a smooth toilet or standing sink, he touched rough tree bark. Regardless, he forced himself into a sitting position against it since it was better than nothing.

As a result of Quentin's success, he was able to open his eyes to be greeted by a completely different world and not the bathroom he was expecting. Instead, he saw only the heavy film of evening darkness around him, and only the chilling night breeze to make him aware that he was outside. An arc of bushes stood between him and the world outside this natural bubble. Confusion was the primary emotion to come forward followed by a deep longing to understand what was happening and find someone, anyone he knew that could help him understand. It didn't take long before he resumed crying about the loss of any support around him making him feel entirely alone. He was so completely cut off from those that mattered most in the most difficult moment of his life. It stung.

Denial had never come so quickly spurring on a rapid-fire of reasons why this was happening. It was just a lifelike nightmare and he'd fallen asleep in the theatre but he would wake up so he could laugh about it with Danny and Jay. Or that he HAD fallen in the shower but was on some medicine that messed with his mind. But he would wake up in the hospital with his family around him. OR, that he and Anna had been out after the movie and got completely smashed. He'd passed out in a park and would just vow to never have the nightmare cocktail that got him here. In the end, the two of them could laugh about it later on. Quentin knew that none of these made much sense, but he had to hope it was one of those.

For a while, Quentin sat idly back against the tree with the only company being the heavy pounding in his skull. In all that time Quentin noticed his vision hadn't gotten much clearer since he first looked across the darkness, not that there was much to see. He had to admit that even if it was a nightmare, it was convincing. Quentin slumped his head down in resignation only to look at his arms in his lap. He wouldn't have gasped at his arms at any other time. They wouldn't have been of any significance at any other time as they shouldn't have been then. But no this time something was entirely wrong. Thick white fur covered his arms and hands, accompanied by thin leathery pads on parts of his hands.

Quentin launched into hysterics. Everything was fine, except for the headache. It was just an elaborate prank. Anna would have a lot to answer for having glued leather and fake animal fur all over his arms. It was a hell of a joke. She knew that he would be disoriented after a long night out. Knowing this would freak him out, to her credit, she was right.

Quentin moved up to touch his face to find out just how far she'd gone for this prank. The atmosphere was drained of its once cheerful mood an instant later when he touched his face. He traced his hand along his face inch after inch. His expression dropped and he paled at the realisation that his face felt...wrong. That was the only way to describe it. His mouth was now much longer and his ears were displaced to the top of his head. Panic flooded his mind.

The admiration for a clever joke evaporated when he started to grab at the fluff on his forearm and he felt it pull the same way hair should. Quentin insisted on yanking more and more out getting out some loose fluff from his arms and then more but with none of the glue residue. He realised it wasn't glued on but part of him. All he could do in that situation was laugh out loud at just how absurd the situation was again while stifling sobs. Every time he thought that he had it together, every time things made sense the universe would sweep in with another revelation just to knock the legs out from under him. The laughter started to subside into full-blown bawling again in his now fuzzy hands. 'What the fuck is going on?' Quentin thought.

It took another half an hour for Quentin to normalise back into a functional state again, with the pain being the only constant so far in this mystery world he's found himself in. In laying on the floor he remembers he has something in his pockets which to a certain degree caused him some concern because what's to say there's not a snake or something else dangerous he wouldn't put it past the world at this point. He reached into his pockets and felt relief, as it was only what he'd stuffed in his pockets before he got into the shower so he could get dressed and go right away. He pulled out his phone to check for a signal or Wi-Fi. It felt way worse than any early morning having a pocket sun beat him back down to the floor where he scrabbled, his eyes squinting to get the brightness down to safe levels. The pain was back again.

No signal, no Wi-Fi and not enough battery. For a minute, he'd hoped that his phone would be the answer to all the questions. He was kicking himself for that idea now. It would be too simple for that to be the case. He unlocked it and asides from the lack of connection, everything seemed the same except the photos. They looked so wrong. Quentin chokes on a gasp, seeing the faces of his friends and family replaced with animal imitators and imposters with rows of photos of strangers. He scrolls through his gallery frantic. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. If it wasn't for remembering the situation, he took the photo in. He would have assumed it was someone else's if felt like looking into a mimic of his own life from the outside the window.

Cold pangs of unease shot through him, making him feel nauseous. It was too much for him at that moment. He plunged his hand into his pockets again to distance himself from what he'd seen. A pair of keys with a small plush dice on it. It wasn't much of a better distraction, only reminding him of if he'd ever make it home, so he tossed it onto his phone. Quentin continued through it only to find more dread and sadness creeping in. Money that wouldn't work, a provisional license that gave him the first look at what he guessed was his own face, a charging cable and a granola bar that looked unchanged by everything. Quentin snorted at the thought that the only constant he had with the world was a cereal bar. A fucking cereal bar. It felt oh so typical.

None of it was of any consolation. There were no questions with answers wrapped in a neat bow, just a renewed round of questions to add to the ever-expanding list. Quentin racked his brain for something new to do when it hit him. He was searching too close to himself. He needed to see more of his surroundings if he wanted to know more. Quentin initially tried to stand up, only to crumple face first back towards the ground, his legs feeling like wet cement. Resolve only weakened for a second. The new plan was to drag himself forward on all fours faster and with more success than seemed reasonable until he was up against the sage-coloured shrubs.

He saw an enormous park with winding footpaths and lots of trees. There was a pond of water surrounded by wet mud and greenery, a far contrast to the repeating cracks in the floor. There were a few... people? Quentin didn't quite know whether calling them people was right, yet this was the first he'd actually seen of them. Who knows if they are anything like people? Getting closer while in his state felt like a bad idea, so he relented and went back to the tree he was calling "home" at the moment. The weirdest part so far was that all the surrounding lights were all off casting darkness over his little area. Quentin felt better that there were "people" off in the distance. It made him feel at least a little better about the situation at least.

Quentin gravitated back to sitting against the tree, trying to rack his brain for solutions. Only to orbit back, to pinch himself once more to make sure that for definite he wasn't dreaming. But if the pulsating from his head was any indicator, it was hopeless, and disappointment was all that was to follow. Harsh blues and reds snapped him back to reality as they appeared off in the distance, along with the droning of a siren. The pain in his head got worse as the noise got closer. This prompted him to clasp his hands over his ears, attempting to block it out.

(Nick's POV)

It'd been night-shift after night-shift for weeks by now, and they'd been getting duller and duller. He and Judy arrested all the usual suspects. Crime had been falling, and it was taking an effect on the both of them so for the third night in a row he found himself tiredly sitting behind the wheel of the cruiser while a tired rabbit thumped her foot against the seat while staring at the radio.

"You can't will something to happen, you know Carrots," Nick yawned.

She didn't engage this time asides from rolling her eyes and muttering something. The night-shift continued to take its toll on the both of them, but her especially, she'd been losing energy as things went on being more terse than usual with her cutting off the banter early. He kept hoping she'd adjust, but a worse and worse mood had carved its way through her usual chipper attitude. Despite all this, her face lit up when the radio light started glowing green.

"This is Dispatch. We have reports of vandalism in Oasis Park. There have been reports of smashed lightbulbs in the area".

"Dispatch, Cruiser 04 is on station" Judy quickly rattles off to the radio.

"Roger, Cruiser 04"

Nick chuckles. "So you get to sleep on the job and wake up when there is a case. Doesn't seem fair."

"Someone has to do the hard work, Nick," Judy fires back.

"Sure the big bad Officer Carrots gets to work on the high-stakes vandalism case, Lucky you," Nick mocks. "You're a bad influence on me. I might just take a nap next shift."

Judy rolls her eyes again but looks far more active compared to before. "Like that'd stop you."

They both knew that this wasn't likely to be anything major, but at this point, both of them appreciated something to do on a shift other than driving around waiting for nothing to happen. It was a 'suffering from success' situation after he finished the police academy with him and Judy becoming partners and police efforts stepping up after the Night Howlers fiasco. It felt like a lifetime ago with the past 6 months passing by in a flash with how much has changed. He has a stable place to live for the first time in a long time compared to hopping from hotel to motel on his 'hustles'. That alone felt like a monumental change, but switching sides working for police now that no one could have guessed. Finnick had laughed at the idea at first. Then after a couple of months. Then just a few days ago. Nick didn't begrudge it, still felt surreal.

"Cruiser 04, we have updated reports from Oasis Park of locals hearing laughing and crying coming from the far right corner. Exercise caution 04"

"Carrots, we may have a crazy on our paws. Please don't look so excited," Nick said with exasperation. Part of him almost wished things had stayed dull now.

"This could be a serious investigation, Nick!" Judy bubbled with excitement. "Smashed lights and a suspicious character. This could be the big case we've been waiting for!"

"I can't tell if you're joking"

Things had been dull compared to the Night Howlers and while he'd never admit it, he was getting as antsy waiting about for a new big case, something serious to do.

"Still maybe. But I wouldn't get your hopes up, though."

Nick forces out a fake sigh. "Alright, hit the lights then, if this is such a big case," he said. In reality, he was trying to suppress that he was just as excited about the case. Was he concerned about the laughter and crying? Yes, yes, he was. Anyone would be in his position. No shame in that.

It only took about five to get there and the lights were well and truly off in the corner, bringing a fresh wave of nervous energy to the environment and looking over at Judy. It was clear she felt the same now.

"Should we request support? This is looking sketchier than Weaselton's DVDs, and we both know that's a feat." Nick said, nerves showing against his best efforts.

"Relax Nick, as you said, it's not gonna be a big deal," Judy said "It'll probably be nothing like you said, anyway". She didn't hide her disappointment at the though when she said that. She waited expectantly, holding out his radio for him. Deep breaths. Armed with torches and determination alike, they moved out without hesitation towards the corner of the park. Now he could only hope it was as minor as he guessed.

(06/11/22) Well, this closes off this chapter for the week. Is this story weekly? I don't know. I have, however, got more plans for this story and some direction, which is a good start I know. Not a lot of action or conversation, but I am trying to get across the whole disorientation after dying thing. I'm just saying, but if I died and woke up in an unfamiliar place injury or not, I wouldn't be off on a city stroll. Conversation and interaction will step up in the future. Either way, despite all this, I hope you enjoy. More dialogue in future anyway. Oh and guess who figured out line breaks on FanFiction! Me! Turns out it doesn't like asterisks but nothing should change on Ao3.

Thanks for reading. Critique and suggestions very much welcome as always.