Authors Note – I have finally watched the season 4 episodes – Yay me.
So in celebration of 'The Man in the Outhouse' we are having a Coldplay song. Although weird trippy lyrics make for a strange chapter.
Thanks to Moonlight Gardenias for making the grammatical correction that I didn't notice (but you would!) and everyone who read and reviewed.
Also I just want to say thank you for the unbelievable response I got for my other story 'It seems I've grown attached'. I was completely blown away by the reviews you all sent.
Disclaimer – The characters do not belong to me in any way.
Enjoy
"Hello?" Max picked up the phone tentatively. Anyone calling at this hour meant trouble. He'd had enough to last him a lifetime.
"Daddy?" she wept.
"Oh, pumpkin."
--ooo000ooo--
Lights go out and I can't be saved
Tides that I tried to swim against
Have put me down upon my knees
Oh I beg, I beg and plead
I woke with a start, and a crippling pain in my chest. I could hear her talking softly in the other room. There were no other voices so I assumed she was on the phone. I glanced at my watch to find that the face was cracked. It had stopped at twenty two minutes past three. Memories of the past day came flooding back and the physical pain I felt numbed in response. The injuries I had sustained protecting myself were nothing compared to...
She was still talking and I strained to hear her side of the conversation.
"You know more than you're letting on. I need to know what happened!"
She was talking to Max. That was obvious.
"You're being deliberately avoidant... No, I don't need to talk about me... I had a dream. It bothered me a little... I know it doesn't mean anything. You're changing the subject. Fine... Just come see me tomorrow... Bye."
I heard the phone slam down. Jeeze Bones, good job nobody's trying to sleep in here. The bedroom door opened and I closed my eyes. She didn't need to know I'd been listening in on her conversation. I felt her move around the room a little then the door closed and again I was alone. She had placed a dose of painkillers and a glass of water at my side. The sound of the front door closing resonated through the apartment. I wanted to go after her but knew it was a bad idea. Taking the pills she had left I considered that she would have good reason for leaving in the middle of the night. With the place now silent sleep soon caught up with me.
Come out of things unsaid
Shouldn't I pull off my head and a
Trouble that cant be named
Tigers waiting to be tamed
--ooo000ooo--
I hear the gunshots as they tick away the seconds.. and minutes... and hours. The sound of my rifle masked by the deafening sounds. I have the target in sight. I pull the trigger without hesitation and she is down. She? The body turns at it falls to the ground, with a little boy holding on to her hand. Why hadn't I noticed him before I fired the shot. His blonde curls lay across her chest in her embrace, quickly becoming matted with the blood that flows freely from her body. I see her face and my own blood runs cold. I have made a mistake. My target was to protect her. Them. My reasons for being are gone. I turn and I am in a classroom full of students. A group of new recruits eagerly wait my words. She sits third from the back on my right, her clothes sodden and bloodstained.
She raises her hand to speak. 'Why did you shoot me?' she asks. I feel a tug at my leg and look down at Parker. 'I missed you daddy. Where did you go?' I look back up to tell her I made a mistake but the classroom is empty and I am alone. I walk to the window. It is a beautiful day. I raise the blinds and see nothing but destruction. Homes are burning and I hear children's screams as they perish with their mothers in the flames. Explosions on the horizon make the building shake beneath my feet. I lower the blinds back down as though the outside world will cease to exist to me.
I need to get out of this room so I head towards the door. It is locked. I hear the sound of glass breaking behind me and turn to find a live shell has been deposited in the room. I have no more time. I try the door once more and it opens easily. Waking through I am at the circus. There is no way back. I hear Parker shout that he sees a clown and I look around in panic. I see Parker. He is sat with a heavily pregnant Rebecca and her new husband. A perfect family portrait. He waves at me so I wave back and suddenly I realize that I am the only clown here.
Confusion never stops
Closing walls and ticking clocks
Gonna come back and take you home
I could not stop the tune I know
I close my eyes and the circus noise fades away. When I open them I am stood in a doorway.
The door opens and I walk in. Instinct tells me where to go. I find the weapons and examine their condition. I feel eyes bearing into me, and I turn to find four men ready to attack. Every move is vivid as I fight back, knowing there is a good chance I will die here. The gunshot rings out and I am moving fast. I look down and I am the one holding the gun.
Come out upon my seas,
Cursed missed opportunities
Am I a part of the cure
Or am I part of the disease,
--ooo000ooo--
My eyes shot open, on full alert as the room, illuminated by the dawn light came into focus. She was there, sat on the edge of the bed, gazing down at me, concern masking what looked like panic.
"Hey," she breathed softly. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Like somebody beat me with an iron bar," I replied, half jokingly.
"Is that what happened?"
Damn those first few minutes in the morning between waking and my brain switching itself on."Yes," I replied. Denial would be pointless.
"Are you ready to tell me everything?" The expectant look on her face told me I had little choice.
I nodded.
"C'mon, we can talk over breakfast." She stood and held out her hands to help me up.
And nothing else compares
--ooo000ooo--
I started from the beginning with my meeting with Jase and told her how I had arrived with a viable cover story, only to find out they knew Jase had sent me to steal the arms from them; that they had me cornered in the basement. Me alone against four of them. That, much as I fought my own corner, they had allowed me to live to send their own message back to Jase's gang.
She nodded in understanding as I spoke. "And that's how I ended up back here." I concluded. My conversation with Max was irrelevant. As were a few other details.
"I'm sorry," she stated in an expressionless monotone voice. Anyone else would sound indifferent but I had heard her use this tone so many times before I subconsciously add the expression in myself.
"It wasn't your fault."
"NO!" she asserted. "I'm sorry you can't be honest with me. You're holding back, and it isn't helping anyone."
I sat silently. The words I wanted to say wouldn't form coherent sentences.
"Last night I went out. I was able to get hold of some prescription pain medication. I can't imagine the over the counter stuff is making much of an impact on your injuries. And Max gave me your address. So I picked your clothes and toiletries up and brought them back here." She paused. "Max told me that you'd still been able to acquire the guns. Based on what you just told me I don't see how they let you just walk out of there? And... while I was walking I passed a crime scene. They found a body. Caucasian male, between thirty to forty, fatal gunshot wound."
She simply looked at me, waiting.
I don't think I want to be here anymore.
Home, home where I wanted to go
--ooo000ooo--
Authors Note – It's still grey and rainy at my house. So I might cheer myself up by writing you some gratuitous lovemaking for a forthcoming chapter. Lets make it audience participation. What do you want to see / read?