Chapter 16

Simon turned the key in the lock and stepped inside. Just a couple of hours ago he'd left that same doorway with deep fear and terror in his heart. He had some answers now but knew the fear wasn't going to go away easily.

As he closed the door he leaned back heavily against it, letting out his breath so deeply that he gave an involuntary sigh. For a brief moment his eyes closed, the silence of the empty flat surrounding him, enveloping him in time to go over all that he'd been though in his mind.

Slowly, as though on auto-pilot his feet took him down the corridor and to the bathroom. He closed the door and walked to the shower cubicle where he switched on the water and waited for a moment until it ran hot and filled the room with steam, then he shed his clothes and stepped inside.

As the hot water hit his body and the deafening sound of the power shower filled his ears he let his eyelids close and began to breathe deeply. The events of the last 24 hours were causing goosebumps on his skin, despite the temperature of the water. He stepped forward and let his face come into direct line of the shower and stood with closed eyes, water beating against him, wishing that it could wash away the memories of Keats and his insane actions. He wished that the water could wash away the deep feeling of dread, the darkness that crushed his chest at every breath.

He reached for the shampoo and squeezed a huge amount into his hand then began working it through is hair roughly. He began to rub harder and harder until the massaging of the foam became a real gouging at his skin instead. He wasn't even fully aware of what he was doing, just desperately hoping he would feel better if he could scrub a little of the memory away.

He let the water wash away the foam but the darkness remained inside of him. Taking the soap he began to rub it roughly on his skin, washing every inch of his body over and over. He felt dirty, tainted, ruined by one man who was intent on destroying his life.

As he washed for the forth time something began to crumble inside of him and tears fell from his eyes. A deep and cleansing cry followed, as he sank to the ground and cried unashamedly. There was no one around to see. He could finally let out some of the emotions that had been building as the day went on.

He wasn't aware how much time had passed but eventually felt the water run cold as the hot water had been exhausted. As he reached out to turn off the shower and let his tears dry up with it, so he began to feel his fears and anguish turning to anger. Anger at Keats for what he had put him through, anger at Robin for doubting him and labelling him a cheater, anger at the experience if being in 1985 which had left him in such a horrific situation but mostly anger at himself. He was angry for allowing himself to get into such a situation in the first place, angry for failing to protect himself from Keats and angry for letting the bastard reduce him to tears.

He stepped out of the shower and dried himself roughly with a towel, throwing on some clean clothes and trying to rub most of the water from his head. The natural wave in his hair was starting to look a little frizzy but the last thing on his mind was blow-drying.

With renewed determination he strode to the lounge, picked up his laptop and took it to the kitchen where he placed it on the table. He took a deep breath to gather his energy and opened the lid. Just as he switched it on, the sound of a key in the lock caught his attention and he looked up in time to see Robin stepping sheepishly through the front door.

"Hi," he said quietly.

Simon swallowed. Without intending to, he found himself becoming defensive.

"Hi," he said coldly.

"No one tried anything," Robin began quietly, "I guess your fake fight worked."

Simon nodded.

"I'm glad."

"I wasn't very good at faking," Robin confessed, "I'm surprised they fell for it."

"You did fine," Simon looked away.

"Kelly's regained consciousness," Robin told him.

Simon nodded slowly.

"That's good," he said quietly.

Robin hesitated for a moment, then began to walk slowly towards him.

"The sample is at the lab," he said.

Simon stared at him.

"Thank you," his voice wavered just a little.

"They said they'll call me when they have some results," he said.

Simon couldn't bring himself to look at Robin any longer. The anger was biting too hard.

"OK," he said quietly, glancing down as his laptop finished loading.

Robin stopped at the table and sat down beside him.

"Simon?" he began quietly, "Are we OK?"

Simon clicked a couple of times on his laptop.

"I'm not," he said quietly.

"I mean…. Are 'we' OK?" Robin repeated.

Simon closed his eyes just for a second.

"I know," he whispered.

Robin flinched inside. He knew that Simon would be angry with him for jumping to the wrong conclusion, but, really - how else was he supposed to react? He waited for a second, trying to work out what to say. In the end he decided to change the subject.

"Simon… who is this guy?" he asked, not even sure he wanted to know the answer, "and what does he want with you?"

"I don't know what he wants with me," Simon said quietly, "and I'm hoping to find out the other part of your question shortly."

"Why did he go to so much trouble to set you up?" Robin asked, "if he hates you so much why didn't he just kill you?"

Simon shook his head slowly.

"Because the guy is insane," he said quietly, "that's the only answer I can think of. Nothing else makes sense."

Robin chewed nervously on his lip.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm going into the database," Simon told him, "This Keats guy hasn't just… appeared from nowhere. I'm going to find out where he's come from and what the hell he thinks he's doing."

Robin felt nauseous as Simon's stiff, cold tone brought home to him just how much of a hit their relationship had taken. He didn't know whether to confront it right then or to let it go in the name of peace. Finally the words made his decision for him, escaping from his head, right out through his mouth before he could stop them.

"You would have thought the same, you know!" he blurted, "If you'd come home and found me in bed with someone else, there's no way you would have reacted any differently. What else was I supposed to think? You'd have thought I'd cheated too."

Simon gave him a glance as his fingers danced across the keyboard.

"Yeah, OK," he said quietly, "Maybe I would."

"Then why are you so angry with me?"

Simon swallowed, a lump threatening to rise in his throat.

"Because you know me," he said quietly, "and you know how I feel about infidelity."

"Even so, you've been acting so strangely lately," Robin tried to explain, "doing things that were so out of character…"

Simon locked Robin in firm eye contact.

"But," he repeated, "you know me."

Robin glanced down.

"Yeah."

"And to think that you believe I'm that kind of person…." Simon blinked slowly, "that hurts."

Robin opened his mouth to respond but suddenly all his arguments seemed futile. He could have mentioned the drinking, the circumstantial evidence, even the accident but none of them felt like they justified his behaviour. Eventually he took a deep breath.

"I know," he said, "and I am sorry… but I'll make it up to you, I promise you that."

Simon knew that Robin was sincere but his anger was still too strong to accept his apology just yet. Instead he focused on the screen in front of him and typed his access details into the station's database.

"Come on…" he muttered as the machine seemed to be taking an extremely long time to let him in, then after a bleep emerged he swore profusely.

"What's wrong?" asked Robin.

"The bastards have blocked my access!" Simon cried, "they must have suspended my account!" he thumped his fists onto the keyboard, "Bastards!"

Robin scooted his chair a little closer and glanced at the screen which now bore a line of Ks and As from where Simon's fists had made contact. Deleting the repeated letters, he started to type before Simon could say anything.

"What are you doing?"

"Logging in on my account," said Robin.

The computer gave a satisfying tone as access was granted and the station's database opened up to them. Simon gave him a tiny smile and a sideways glance.

"Thanks," he said quietly. He clicked on a couple of buttons to get into the part of the system he desired, mumbled "Let's find out who the hell you are," and then began to fill in the required fields.

Surname: KEATS. Initial: J.

He ran the curser across the screen to the 'search' button and hovered above it. As the curser hung in the air, so his finger hovered over the button. He froze as though someone had pressed the pause button and left him hanging in suspended animation. The only sound he made was a gulp as he swallowed hard and caused Robin to look at him in concern.

"Si?" he asked. When Simon didn't respond he tried again. "Simon?" he reached out to touch his hand but Simon flinched and drew back a little. He gave a nervous, false laugh and rubbed his chin.

"I, uh…" he flustered, "I just wasn't…. I just started to wonder…. If I was doing the right thing."

Robin frowned.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Simon began to tremble visibly.

"If I press the button," he whispered, "then I'll know if he's real. I'll know if it's all real."

"Simon…"

"And it's scary, Robin. It really…. really… scares the shit out of me."

Robin hesitated.

"Si… you already know it's real," he said quietly. It was a hard thing for Robin to say, still hoping deep down that Robin's time in 1985 had been some kind of dream. It wasn't that he thought Simon would lie or could be delusional in some way, it was more his own fear that something so outlandish could be real, let alone coming to haunt the man he loved in the present day. "You already found Malcolm… Keats is just another name. Another part of an experience that you have never been able to put behind you, for one very important reason." He looked Simon in the eye. "Because you knew it was real."

Simon bit his lip. That was true enough. But even so, finding out that the darkness of Jim Keats was real was a possibility that terrified him.

"I know," he whispered, "but…"

"But nothing," Robin reached out, "you need to find out who this guy is. You owe it to yourself." He placed his hand gently over Simon's. To his surprise, Simon didn't flinch this time. "You owe it to both of us."

Simon tried to take a deep breath but every one he took seemed so shallow. He felt as though he just couldn't get enough oxygen around his body.

"I wish I could," he whispered.

Robin nodded slowly.

"We'll both do it," he said quietly. Slowly he exerted pressure on Simon's finger and the key depressed. The search button activated and the screen came alive with information. Now the genie had been let out of the lamp there was no way of putting him back in - they had no choice but to find out exactly who shared a body with the devil. The words on the screen began to shake them to the core.