Wyatt had been having that dream again.
It would come in cycles. Sometimes he wouldn't have it for months, maybe even a year, and then suddenly it'd be recurring for weeks straight. In the dream, he was back in high school, in his old bedroom, sitting with Amelia Klepper as she relayed to him her story ideas about a new werewolf idea she had. One where a group of werewolves infiltrate the government and make the food supply scarce, thus enacting stringent cannibalistic laws to further their own feeding agenda. Wyatt wasn't one for stories such as these, exactly, but he loved hearing her passion about it. This was often their routine when Wyatt's parents had their date nights; Amelia would sneak in and they would just hang out in his bedroom and talk. But the dream always ends the same. A different way than the reality had. A way that, quite frankly, was making Wyatt start to feel uncomfortable. Wyatt would wake up sweating, breathing heavily, his throat feeling tight. He would climb clumsily out of bed and go for the bathroom, filling up a glass of water that he kept in there specifically for that. He would drink from it, then walk back into the bedroom, and that's when he'd notice the lights on outside. As if his dream wasn't rough enough, these lights had become a regular thing as well. He couldn't tell where they were coming from or what they belonged to, because as soon as he approached the window to get a better look, they shut off, and it was too dark outside to see anything. Was someone watching him? Someone involved with the law, perhaps? The whole ordeal, dream and all, kept him so unnerved that he often had trouble going back to sleep. Which wasn't great because sleep was one of the few places he felt alright lately, even in spite of the dream. *** "Are you aware that you have an enormous snowglobe collection?" Rachel asked as she stood in Kelly's room, looking at her bookshelf. "How would I not be aware?" Kelly responded, not looking up from her book as she laid in bed. "Just wanted to make sure you knew you were lame is all," Rachel replied, making Kelly laugh. It had been two weeks since Kelly had gotten back into living in her parents, back in her old bedroom, and in that brief span of time, she'd become incredibly bored. She contemplated many hobbies to fill the slow passage of time; knitting, origami, whatever she could easily do from bed with her hands, but none of it really appealed to her. Not until she'd started reading about horses again. When they were little girls, Rachel and Kelly had loved horses - it had been one of the things that brought them together as friends to begin with - and together they'd taken riding lessons, for a bit anyway, until Rachel stopped. Growing up, they'd read a series of easy to read chapter books together called "Frontier Girls", about a group of young teen girls who end up solving crimes in the west with the help of their horses. Kelly still had her entire collection, and this was what she'd been recently re-reading from bed. Rachel picked up one of the snowglobes and looked at it, scoffing. "Arizona? Really? As if they get snow," Rachel said, setting it back down on the shelf before turning to look towards the bed and asking, "...aren't you bored to death in here?" "Kinda," Kelly said, shrugging, "that's why I started reading again." As soon as Rachels eyes landed on the cover of the book, her blood ran cold. She'd put up with seeing Wyatt's pony, but the idea of horses still made her feel sick as a dog. She could feel herself start to hyperventilate, and quickly excused herself from the room, rushing to the bathroom across the hall and shutting the door tightly behind her. Leaning against the sink, she tried to get herself to calm down. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and she sighed. One day...one day she would have to face her issues with horses, but that day wasn't today. *** "Could just be neighbors kids, screwing around," Scarlett said as she poured Wyatt some coffee. "Could be, but I doubt it," he said, lifting the mug to his lips and sipping, "it's way too...consistent. Nobodys kid is that regularly timed. Anyway the whole thing is freaking me out." "Could also be someones alert lights," Scarlett continued, seating herself now, "you know, like those flood lights people attach to their homes with motion detectors, and it's just happening to see something and turning on and off at the same time each night. Though, again, that's really coincidental I guess." "I'm glad you acknowledged that so I didn't have to," Wyatt remarked, the both of them chuckling. They sat in silence together, the kids already at school and daycare, enjoying this morning to themselves for a change. It wasn't often Scarlett and Wyatt got alone time like this, and lately, that had been Wyatt's fault more than anyone else's. He sighed and set his mug back down, running his hands over his face. "Anything else wrong?" Scarlett asked. "Do you remember Calvin Klepper's sister?" Wyatt asked. "...yeah, actually I do," Scarlett replied, chewing on her lip for a moment as she thought, "she was that girl who wrote about werewolves, right? She had that frizzy hair and those big front teeth, real dorky lookin'. I mean, she seemed nice enough, just, ya know. Total nerd." "Right," Wyatt said, "I've been having this dream about her lately." "Ooh, are you sure you want your wife to hear about this? She might get jealous," Scarlett said, playfully smirking. "Nah, she's too level headed for jealousy honestly," Wyatt replied, making her smile as he added, "besides it isn't like, a sex dream, or anything. She's just in my dream. I knew her back in high school, before I met you obviously. I don't know why, out of the blue, I'm dreaming about her." "Our brains categorize stuff weirdly and then use it in dreams, it's all random," Scarlett said, picking up her jam covered toast and taking a bite, speaking as she chewed, "it probably doesn't mean a thing, so don't worry too much about it. However, if you two start doing the nasty in the dream, tell me, because that's hot." "Oh you like the idea of me with other women?" Wyatt asked, laughing as he stood up and fixed his tie, preparing to head to work. "Baby, I think I might be into cucking," Scarlett said, making him throw his head back and laugh loudly. He walked around the side of the table, kissed her on the top of the head and then again on the lips, and, grabbing his briefcase from his chair, left to his car. He could never tell her he'd dated Amelia Klepper, she wouldn't understand. She wouldn't be mad or jealous or anything, she just...wouldn't understand. Nobody really did, in all honesty, even the few people, like Calvin, who'd known while it was happening. Wyatt drove to the office, but not before stopping off and getting a box of donuts. Lately he'd been bringing in a box for all the employees to share, and it had made him a more popular boss than he'd already been. One of the reasonings was the fact that he knew his own father would never treat his employees to things like this, and he refused to be that man. Wyatt exited the donut shop, large pink box tucked under his arm and a bear claw hanging from his mouth, when he heard someone approach him from behind. He turned, assuming he'd forgotten something in the shop, only to find himself face to face with a woman who seemed vaguely familiar. "...can I help you?" Wyatt asked. "You've already helped so much," Angie said, "do you remember me?" "...not particularly, no," Wyatt said, continuing towards his car, Angie hot on his heels, eager like an excited child. "You...you convinced me to leave The Evergreens, to not get on the plane and go to the convention," Angie said, and this made Wyatt stop, hand on his door handle. He slowly turned towards her, setting the donut box on the roof of his car and chewing his lip anxiously. "...right, yeah, I DO remember you," he said, "I guess you saw the crash." "I did indeed," Angie said, "you saved me from that. If you hadn't talked me out of it, I would've been on that plane, I would've died like the rest of them. But because of you, your words, I'm here today, and I'm so very grateful for that." "Well, I'm glad to be of service," Wyatt said, unlocking his car and setting the donut box down on the passenger seat now, "but I really have to get to work, so I'm glad you're doing alright, glad you weren't on there and-" "Wyatt," Angie said, taking him by surprise by knowing his name, "let me help you with anything I can. I owe it to you." Wyatt, now starting to feel uncomfortable, politely declined and thanked her before climbing into the drivers side of the car and starting it, before pulling out of his parking space and tearing away, leaving Angie feeling very unsatisfied. Standing there, watching him speed him, she folded her arms and grimaced. Somehow, someway, she would find a way to serve him, and repay the debt for saving her life. Wyatt didn't know it just yet, but there was an out of control train coming directly at him...and its name was Angie Dickenson. *** "I just...I lost it," Rachel said. She was leaning against Calvin's workbench in the shed, as he sat on a stool and drank from his soda can, listening to her as she talked. Rachel nervously reached up to her face and pushed her hair from her face, exhaling slowly. "I had to leave suddenly, and I'm sure that didn't make Kelly feel very good," Rachel said, "but I just...I couldn't be around anything horse related. I felt like I was going to throw up." "Are you feeling okay now?" Calvin asked, and she shrugged. "Who knows, dude," she said, "I can't tell anymore. Feels like the only emotion I can accurately feel is fear, and know I'm feeling it. Which, now that I've said that out loud, is very very sad. I get that she's probably dealing with a lot of stuff, nostalgia and regression cause of what happened, like, that shit would make you view your whole life from a new lens, I get it, but I just can't be around anything like that." "Why is that?" Calvin asked, and Rachel opened her mouth, then looked at Calvin, and shut her mouth again. She couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell anyone. She looked away, her eyes veering back to the floor of the shed and Calvin just shrugged it off, continuing to drink from his soda. Rachel reached into the bag of chips on the table, grabbing a handful and shoving them in her mouth, chewing noisily. Nobody would ever understand, hell, not even her own folks really managed to grasp it. So far it was just the paranoia creeping back in, not the hallucinations, so that was a plus at least. "Well," Calvin said, finishing his drink and crushing the can, tossing it into a nearby trashcan before continuing, "just get her into a different hobby. A different animal at least." "You don't know Kelly the way I do," Rachel said, "she's obsessed with horses. I don't think anyone could ever persuade her to like anything else even a quarter as much." A moment of awkward silence passed through the shed and Rachel sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I need to go home," she said, heading for the door, "I need to see Sun." Calvin was, admittedly, a bit sad he couldn't be more helpful, but he let her go nonetheless. After all, he had once known what it was like to have a woman who could manage to quash all your fears, and he wouldn't keep that from anyone else. *** "It was creepy," Wyatt said, shoving the end of a donut into his mouth, "like, genuinely horror movie level creepy." Celia snickered from the opposite side of the desk. Lately, she'd been coming and spending her lunch hour with Wyatt; some days that meant going to lunch, some days that meant sitting in his office. Today, he'd saved her a donut or two, and she'd brought her own lunch from a Korean restaurant down the street to share with him. He picked up his fork and started to dig into the food she'd brought, as she sipped from her drink. "Well," she said, "maybe she's just an overzealous fan of being alive. I mean, you did stop her from getting on that plane. She could feel eternally grateful. I can't imagine what it must be like, to so narrowly avoid certain death by such a slim margin. That would change a person." "Sure, and I get that," Wyatt said, lifting his food to his lips, "but why's she gotta make sure I know it? To be honest, I forgot about her. Once she started talking I remembered talking to her before, obviously, but she seemed way too familiar with me, talking at me like we were old buddies. It was...unnerving." Celia put her food container back down on the desk and wiped her mouth with her napkin. "So, what, you think she's stalking you or something?" Celia asked, and Wyatt instantly stopped digging around in his food container and looked up towards her, his eyes widening. "You don't think she is, do you?" he replied quietly. "Dude, you're so paranoid," Celia responded, "you need a vacation or something. Sure, the Evergreens were full of misguided whackjobs, but I hardly think that qualifies any of them to be serial killers or stalkers. They were just nature nuts." "Nature nuts who worshipped the wrong man for wrongfully blowing up another man," Wyatt said, pointing at her with his plastic fork, "don't forget that part. What if, now, instead of worshipping Brighton, she's worshipping me? You said it yourself, I saved her from getting on that thing, I could be seen as a divine intervening force." "Wow, someone thinks highly of themselves," Celia said, smirking, "Wyatt, I'm sure she just feels grateful. I'm sure it's nothing more, alright? Seriously, you need to learn to relax. Go to the beach or something." Wyatt slumped back into his chair and nodded solemnly. Celia was probably right. She usually was. She was, after all, the most level headed person amongst them, so why wouldn't she be, and she spoke with such certainty that he had a hard time doubting her assuredness. But something about Angie made Wyatt uneasy, and he didn't know what to do or feel about it. He simply couldn't shake the thought that this girl wasn't just a danger to herself, but also to everyone else, especially him. Maybe he should've let her get on the plane. *** Rachel was lying on the couch when Sun Rai came in through the front door of the apartment. She stopped after shutting the door behind her and looked at Rachel, before hanging her purse and coat on the rack by the door. Sun Rai slowly approached the couch and sat down, Rachel lifting her head up and laying it back down on Sun's lap once she was seated. Sun began to slowly sift her fingers through Rachel's hair, and Rachel shut her eyes. "You wouldn't hate me for being sick, right?" Rachel asked. "I don't hate my father," Sun Rai replied, "I spend hours every day over at my parents just helping my mom because of it. I hate him for other reasons, but not for that. Not for something he can't control." "But there's differing levels of illness," Rachel said, on the verge of tears. "What, and they deserve varying degrees of response?" Sun Rai asked, "that's ridiculous. Illness is illness, albeit mental or physical. Hell, if anything, I think people who ask for help with mental illnesses are far stronger. That's something you often have a choice in. If you get a terminal illness, you don't have really any choices in the matter of getting better. It's already decided for you. So many physical health ailments are already unable to be altered or fixed. But if you fight every single day in your own mind and STILL want help? That's strength." Rachel wanted to talk about it. She'd never spoken openly to anyone except her folks about the things she saw. The THING she saw. One thing. The thing that followed her, haunted her. Terrified her like nothing else. But she also knew the ramifications of opening oneself up to another person, and the judgement that came along with that, regardless of their promise not to judge. She knew better than to ask for help or understanding. "...I think I need help," Rachel said softly, and Sun leaned down, planting her lips on Rachel's head. "Then we'll get you help," she whispered, "whatever you need, I'll help you achieve it." Rachel didn't want help, but she needed it at this point. This was something she could no longer ignore. She had started seeing the See Through Horse again with such regularity that it was concerning. Later that night, after they'd fallen asleep on the couch watching TV, Rachel awoke to use the bathroom. As she entered and turned the light on, she saw a shadow behind the shower curtain in the bathroom mirror, and she stopped breathing for a moment. The shadow...it was that of the horse. She slowly turned, reached for the curtain and pulled it back, only to reveal, as usual, absolutely nothing. Rachel didn't get much sleep that night. *** Wyatt pulled into the driveway of his home and parked, exhaling. Scarlett was home, the kids would be up, and he looked forward to spending some time together with his family. Forgetting about all the shit he was knee deep in. He turned to open his drivers side door when he saw Angie's face at the window and screamed shrilly, jumping in his seat. Atfer a moment of catching his breath, Angie laughing outside the car, he opened the door and stepped out. "Don't do that!" he said, hand to his chest. "You scream like a little girl," she continued laughing, doubled over, hands on her knees. "I do not," Wyatt said, "I scream like a manly man doing manly things, like...like lumberjacking or...car bombing. What...what are you even doing here? How do you know where I live?" "I know so much about you, Wyatt Bloom," Angie said, standing back upright, approaching, pushing him up against his car as she continued, "I know everything. You can't blindly worship someone without knowledge of their identity. I know you have two children, a wife, and I know where you work. I know your fathers name. I know you used to be the star of your high school baseball team. I just want to help you the way you helped me." "Well, that's...creepy and appreciated, somehow simultaneously, but I don't really need any help right now," Wyatt said, "but thanks for asking. If I ever do, you'll be the first to know, promise." "Wyatt," Angie said, grabbing his wrist tightly, "I'm standing by." The front porch light turned on, and Angie took off like a shot in the dark, vanishing down the street. The door opened and Scarlett was standing there, waving at him. He waved back, smiling, telling her he'd be inside in a minute. As she shut the door, Wyatt pulled out his cell phone and dialed Celia. "Yeah, hi, it's me," he said, "we've got a big problem."
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"Are your parents gonna be okay with us bringing all this stuff back with you?" Rachel asked as she and Sun Rai helped Kelly pack. Her time in the hospital was over, and she was being released to her parents care until such time she could return to her own life. Kelly, turning around in her wheelchair, shrugged.
"I mean, places you stay in expect you to take stuff, right?" she asked. "Yeah, like hotels, not hospitals," Rachel remarked. "Hey, I don't think anyone else is gonna wanna use my colostomy bag, okay?" Kelly replied, the both of them laughing as Sun Rai picked up yet another suitcase and carried it out into the hall and towards the parking lot. Rachel walked around behind Kelly and, gripping the handles of the wheelchair, started to push her out of the room. "You gonna miss being here?" Rachel asked, "Being waited on hand and foot?" "Well, you know my mom, she was always the doting type, so I'll likely be given the same treatment there," Kelly said. "You're right, I remember when I would spend the night at your house and she would order whatever we wanted, and then bring it to us in your room on plates, with drinks and everything," Rachel said, chuckling, "your mom is pretty damn great." All things considered, being a plane crash had been a boon to Kelly. She'd gotten her best friend back, her family was going to take care of her, she was on paid vacation while insurance covered her medical costs and, probably best of all, she didn't die from it. She really was one lucky girl. *** Calvin opened his eyes and groaned. He'd been sleeping even worse than before, somehow. He didn't think that was possible, but it turned out it was. He dragged himself out of bed and into the upstairs hall bathroom where he washed his face and combed his hair before heading downstairs in a pair of shorts a t-shirt, only to find, of all people, Wyatt sitting at the kitchen table, eating breakfast with his parents. Barry looked up upon Calvin's entrance and grinned, motioning for him to join them. Calvin slunk into the kitchen, feeling increasingly paranoid, as he seated himself at the table. His mother poured him some coffee and then got him some of the breakfast she'd made for everyone else, before seating herself once again. "What are you doing here?" Calvin asked as he used his fork to scoop scrambled eggs and lift it to his mouth. "Just having breakfast," Wyatt replied gleefully, "just wanted to hang out today, so I figured the best option was uninvited, cause it doesn't really give you a chance to say no." Calvin murmured under his breath as he continued to eat breakfast, watching Wyatt talk with his parents. Calvin felt sick to his stomach the entire time, and not from his moms cooking, wishing Wyatt hadn't invaded his personal space like this. It was one thing to come to The Shed or come around when his folks weren't here, but to put himself smack dab in the middle of their home life, that was...invasive. Then again, he didn't have a leg to stand on, defense wise...lord knew Calvin himself had interjected in plenty of moments he didn't belong. Karma really was a bitch. After breakfast, Wyatt and Calvin got into Wyatt's car, and together, they drove away from the house and, slowly, away from the town. As they got further and further out into the surrounding nothing, Calvin fiddled with the radio dials, looking for anything to ease the painful silence that had filled the car around them. After a bit, they were out on the long, winding roads that would eventually lead to ranches and their ilk. Calvin sighed and rested his chin on his fist as he glanced out the window. "I was having lunch the other day," Wyatt said, "started thinking about your sister. How's she doing?" "Why would you care now?" Calvin asked. "Maybe because it's not hard to learn empathy once you become associated with so many people in such a scary situation, in which any of them could easily get hurt," Wyatt remarked, shrugging his shoulders, "just a guess though." Calvin didn't answer for a bit, then he sighed and spoke. "She's alright," Calvin said, "she spent some time in a hospital for her mental health, voluntarily of course, and now she's out again and she's doing writing again. Been submitting stuff. Been sending some to me to ask for my opinions." "She still writing about werewolves?" Wyatt asked, smirking, making Calvin laugh. "Yeah, yes she is," Calvin replied, "We try to ignore that fact when we tell people what she does because, well, let's face it, it's a bit embarrassing." "I mean, she has an interest and god bless her for sticking to it," Wyatt said, "got far more committment than most people probably." Calvin smiled, nodding. He was protective of his sister, and he knew how badly Wyatt had hurt her emotionally, but it was nice that Wyatt still thought about her from time to time. He thought that, maybe, deep down Wyatt felt bad about how things had ended, and that in his own warped way he did still care about her in some capacity. Truthfully, Wyatt did, but that wasn't why he was here. He was here to ensure that Calvin understood he could never screw up the way he had before again, and if that meant getting him to trust him by discussing his family, he'd do that. Wyatt didn't like how suave he'd become at extortion, but dammit. Someone had to keep Calvin on a leash. *** "You have a really cool bedroom," Sun Rai said as she set down the last suitcase in Kelly's room. Kelly's room was, indeed, pretty cool. It had a slanted ceiling, and a large circular window at the end so she could see out over the street. It also hadn't really been touched since she'd moved out and into her own place, thanks to her parents always hoping she'd move back home (they were sentimental, not disbelieving in her abilities), which meant that how it had been when she was in school was still exactly how it was, band posters and all. Rachel sighed and sat down on the bed, catching her breath. "It's one flight of eight stairs," Sun Rai said, looking at her, shaking her head and laughing, "you're so out of shape." "As long as I look hot what do I care about my physical capabilities?" Rachel asked as Kelly wheeled herself to her desk. "All my scrapbooking stuff is still here," Kelly said, "maybe I can take that up again. That's definitely a 'sit in one place for hours and do nothing' kind of activity. Maybe you guys could come over and help some nights. It'd be nice to have company that isn't my parents. Don't get me wrong, they're great, I love them, but, ya know, they're my parents." Rachel and Sun Rai both laughed, which made Kelly feel more accepted. "Sadly," Sun Rai said, "I'm dealing with a lot right now with my fathers health, so that isn't so much an option for me, but if I have the time I'll definitely do it. Rachel, however, you just have work so you should be free more often right?" "Yeah, I could totally come hang out," Rachel said, sitting upright again, "that'd be a lot of fun. We could order a pizza and play old music from high school and do lots of scrapbooking." "You two were total nerds weren't you?" Sun Rai asked, laughing, "no wonder you were best friends." Rachel and Kelly exchanged a look and smiled at one another, both chuckling. In hindsight, it wasn't surprising in the slightest. While Rachel had always been the more socially acceptable and outgoing of the two - and even then not by much - they had both, yes, been pretty dorky and reserved and found solace in one another, even well before high school. Even though she would never openly admit it, because she hated being seen as weak, the split, which had been instigated by Rachel, had hurt her so much more than she'd ever let on. To lose the one real friend you'd always had...hell, it wasn't until Calvin and Wyatt that she felt like she had that sort of thing again, but even now, they didn't compare to Kelly. "We're still best friends," Rachel said, making Kelly blush as she added, "that's why we made friendship bracelets." "Oh my god, do you still have yours?!" Kelly asked loudly, cackling and Rachel held up her right wrist. "Always have, always will," Rachel said, all three of them laughing. *** Calvin and Wyatt had stopped to get gas. While Wyatt filled the car up, Calvin came back from the interior of the gas station, opening up his wrapped in foil gas station burrito and biting into it. Wyatt finished the deed, paid at the machine and together they got back into the car. Wyatt put the keys into the ignition and started the car up, pulling away again, back onto the road to nowhere in particular. "For what it's worth," Wyatt said, "I never felt good about how it ended. I take full responsibility, as I should. She deserved better. But my dad, man. He was...is....an overbearing son of a bitch who can make a person feel bad about something they shouldn't feel bad about. Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, I am happy with the family we have, but...your sister was a great partner and she taught me a lot." "Yeah, well," Calvin said, taking another bite, "she's not interested in communicating with anyone anymore. She can see how easily she can be used and manipulated now, so she just figures what's the point." "Jesus, I'm so sorry, I screwed up so bad," Wyatt said, "but I'm willing to take the blame, and learn from it, grow. You can't continue to make the same mistake repeatedly, claim you're changed from it and then go right back to doing it, you understand what I mean?" Calvin's eyes slowly headed over to Wyatt, and he sighed. "Alright," Calvin said, wrapping the rest of his burrito up and setting it in his lap, "come out and say it." "You can't do what you did again," Wyatt said sternly. "You don't think I'm aware of that?" Calvin asked. "At some point, someone is going to open an investigation into what happened, and it might very well lead to us. That's something we're going to have to deal with, but even still, Calvin, you can't do anything like that again. I know you were pissed at Wattson, I get it, and hell, he and even the Evergreens kind of deserved it, but...we can't continue down this path. We need to course correct." Calvin sighed again and rubbed his chin, his somewhat beared face, and then looked out the window. "You know what Amelia did after you dumped her?" Calvin asked, "she spent weeks crying in her room, refusing to go to school again. Finally, our parents, not knowing how to handle it, asked me to go in and see what I could do about it, and when I talked to her about it, you wanna know what she asked me? She asked me what it was about her that made people hurt her the way they did. Was she naive, too trusting, just plain stupid? I couldn't give her an answer. But you weren't the first person to hurt her. She had people pretend to be her friend to use her class, people feign romantic interest in her simply to humiliate her, so while you were genuine in your interest in her, you were the straw that broke the camels back." Wyatt felt his eyes water up, and he wanted to cry. He didn't want to be responsible for a woman losing all her self worth. "But," Calvin said, "I just told her that nothing was wrong with her, when, in reality, that's not the truth. I lied to her though, because that seemed the best course of action. Why let her feel even worse when she was already at her lowest? Truth be told, yeah, there was something wrong with her. She was too naive. Too trusting. Too desperate. She's sick. She's extremely sick in the head. But I wasn't about to lay blame for others actions at her feet, even if she was somewhat responsible at times. So I did what any big brother would do. I covered it up. I made it the fault of others, because it was mostly the fault of others. You weren't the worst person she dealt with Wyatt, but you hurt the worst because of your genuinness, and I don't think she'll ever get over that. So sure, I've made mistakes, things I can't take back, but if I can't keep making the same mistake, neither can you." Wyatt pulled the car over to the side of the road and buried his face in his arms on the steering wheel, sobbing. "We both have to be better," Calvin said, as he reached out and put his hand on Wyatt's shoulder, comforting him. Even above Scarlett, Rachel, Kelly, anyone else, the one person he'd never wanted to hurt was Amelia simply because he knew how fragile and delicate she had been. And yet he had. He'd not only hurt her, hell, he'd outright broken her. Calvin might forgive him, but could he ever forgive himself? "Let's both try harder," Calvin said, and Wyatt nodded. "I like that arrangement," Wyatt said softly. *** Sun Rai panted, breathing heavily as Rachel kissed down her neck. After having dinner at Kelly's, they made their way back to the apartment, and for some reason, Rachel couldn't get the idea of sex of her mind. Maybe she just needed the release, but she took Sun Rai to the bedroom immediately upon getting into the apartment. "You're doing such a good thing," Sun Rai said as Rachel kissed down to her collarbone, unbuttoning her shirt, "because most people would just turn tail and run, not help their friend like this. People like to act like they'll be there no matter what for someone, but truth is, most people know talk is cheap." "Yeah, well," Rachel said, kissing Sun Rai's now bare shoulders, "I do what I can for those that need it." After the sex, Sun Rai was asleep, but Rachel couldn't sleep. All she could think about was Kelly, sitting alone in her bedroom. Rachel climbed out of bed, headed into the living room and grabbed the cordless phone, dialing Kelly's house number. Surprisingly, Kelly picked up, and Rachel remembered the old cheeseburger phone she had in her bedroom. "I didn't think you would be up," Rachel said, "I thought maybe you'd fall asleep early, cause, ya know, it's exhausting moving somewhere." "Well, to be fair, I didn't do much of the manual labor," Kelly remarked, the both of them laughing. Rache lounged on her couch and lit a cigarette, taking a puff. "So what are you doing?" Rachel asked. "Nothin' really," Kelly said, "there's a really bad horror movie on Channel 48." Rachel grabbed her remote and turned the TV on, then flipped to that channel. Together they sat and watched, ridiculing it over the phone, just like they used to when they were teenagers. It was so easy, Rachel realized, so surprisingly easy actually, to fall right back into that same relationship you once had with someone if you really cared about one another. In spite of what had happened, even in spite of the recent events, Rachel had always cared deeply for Kelly, almost like a sister, and Kelly felt the same. Rachel thought about her time with Wyatt's family having dinner, being friends with Scarlett through their art appreciation, her love with Sun Rai, and now her rekindled friendship with Kelly, falling right back into the same reporte that they'd always had and she realized that, even without her parents, she had a family of sorts, and that counted for something. They made fun of the movie well into the early morning, and it was the best either girl had felt in months. "It's weird," Kelly said, sitting up in her hospital bed, "my whole life I'd never been able to survive any kind of physical activity of any kind. That's why I never want out for any sports. Remember when I broke my tailbone just from falling off the monkey bars in 5th grade?"
Rachel nodded, sitting in the chair beside the bed. "And yet, here I am, having survived a plane crash," Kelly continued, "who'd have thought, of all the people we know, that I'd be the one who'd manage to achieve that." "It's not a skill," Rachel remarked. "I know that," Kelly said, "but it's still pretty damn impressive. The odds of it being me, out of all those people, is wild. None of The Evergreens, not even the guy sitting next to me-" Rachel looked up from her yogurt, spoon sticking from between her lips. Kelly noticed her and elaborated. "Some older guy in a sweatervest," she said, "might've been a teacher, I don't know." Of course. Wattson. Rachel continued eating. The last thing she wanted to discuss, in all honesty, was the crash, but it seemed oddly therapeutic for Kelly, so she let her prattle on and on long as she wanted, because it kept her interested and awake. Really, though, Rachel was just happy to finally be able to see her, especially after a few scary days of thinking she'd never see her best friend again. "Hey, at least now you'll have a cool story to tell on dates," Rachel said. "Right, like I get asked out," Kelly said. The door to her room opened and Wyatt entered, carrying a box of donuts and setting it down on Kelly's lap. She lit up immediately and threw the box lid open, grabbing a sprinkle covered donut as Wyatt sat down beside Rachel, handing her a coffee, which she politely thanked him for. "Plus now I get spoiled," Kelly said, mouth full of donut, "if that isn't worth the terror of a free fall from the sky, I don't know what is." Rachel smiled weakly. So many things she wanted to say. Apologize for. Like how she'd inadvertently been involved in the crash to begin with, but if she ever told Kelly that, she knew it would be the end of everything. So instead she just smiled, nodded, went along with the conversation, ignoring all the goodwill in her heart to do the right thing. After all, she'd not been doing the right thing for so long now, what was one more lie added to the pile, in reality? And Wyatt? Wyatt did the same. He didn't want to lose Kelly's friendship, after he thought he'd nearly lost her wholesale as it was. Besides, much as he cared about her, he wasn't actually here to talk to Kelly. He was here to talk to Rachel, and all because of an interaction he'd had earlier in the day. *** That morning, when Wyatt woke up, he went downstairs, found breakfast already made and Scarlett and the kids eating, and he smiled to himself. A return to at least semi normalcy was more than welcome at this point. He got himself some coffee from the pot before seating himself at the table, all of them eating in silence. Mona was reading a book, her little brother was babbling happily, and Scarlett was scrolling through her social media feed on her phone. "What motivated you to make an entire breakfast spread?" Wyatt asked as he pulled some pancakes onto his plate and began pouring syrup over them. "Well, I started to feel like less of a mom after watching nothing but 80s sitcoms all day," Scarlett replied flatly, the both of them laughing at this response. After breakfast, Wyatt went upstairs, took a shower, got dressed, said goodbye to his family and headed to work. However, the last thing he expected to find once he entered his office was Celia, of all people, who had apparently been waiting for him since work started. He jumped a little at the sight of her, then straightened out his tie and put his briefcase down by the desk as he sat in his office chair. "What're you doing here?" he asked, checking his watch, "Isn't this a little early for a meeting?" "We need to talk about Calvin," Celia said coldly, and Wyatt nodded. "Yeah...yeah I know." "He's unhinged," Celia said, "he's...I mean he's an out and out danger to anyone and everyone around us, and he's the thread that will unspool it all if we don't do something to get him under control of some sort." "You sound like a mob boss," Wyatt said, grinning, making her smirk. "Listen," Celia said, standing up and pacing, "...blowing up one guy? It's bad, but it's manageable. But blowing up an entire plane, killing literally over a hundred people? That...that's not so manageable. What if he gets the itch to do something worse. What if some other prominent figure attached to the whole thing emerges, and he has to...I don't know, derail a train?" "A train?" Wyatt asked, laughing, "Who is he, Dick Dastardly?" "Wyatt, I'm being serious, you know what I'm talking about. If he's capable of terrorism on that level, then he's capable of anything, and we need a contingency plan of some sort in place to deal with it when that time comes." "You mean if." "No, I think we both know I mean when," Celia said, looking sternly at Wyatt's face. This was when it dawned on Wyatt just how right Celia was. It wasn't a matter of if. It was a matter of when. He sighed, stood up and walked over to Celia, putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding her back to her seat. Celia reluctantly took her seat again, as Wyatt sat on his desk in front of her, holding her hands, rubbing the back of them with his thumbs in a comforting manner. "Listen," Wyatt said, "leave Calvin to me, okay? I know you're right. I know that moment is going to come. But you don't have to worry about it. You have your job and your son, and you don't need to be struggling with Calvin's bullshit as well. Leave him to me and maybe Rachel. We'll figure something out, I promise. And unlike my father, I don't make promises for the sake of looking good. I'll actually follow through on them. So when I promise you something, rest assured you can take it at face value." Celia smiled, nodding. She did believe Wyatt. Up to this point, he'd done his best to keep her and Rachel as shielded as possible for Calvin's batshit attitude and actions, and up to this point he hadn't let them down, so why should she think he would? Wyatt let go of her hands and walked back around behind his desk, sitting back down as Celia turned around in her chair, facing him. "Why'd you say that about your father?" she asked, "you never talk about him." "Because he's an awful bag of shit," Wyatt said, "and because I've done my damndest to not be anything like him. Rest assured, the only thing we have in common at this juncture is our last name, and even that I'm not too crazy about. I actually thought about taking Scarlett's last name when we married just to have absolutely nothing in common with my father, but Wyatt Demure made me sound like some kind of old timey cowboy, and...I mean, that's not uncool but it's not exactly business like." Celia laughed, listening. She was grateful to have Wyatt to calm her nerves, nerves which were beginning to get frayed at each end. So she sat there and she listened to him joke and she tried to let herself forget about the potential danger they were constantly in. A few hours into it, Wyatt suggested they go to lunch, and frankly, Celia couldn't think of a better way to spend an afternoon. *** When Rachel entered Kelly's room for the first time, she almost burst into tears. Kelly wasn't asleep, she was just resting, but seeing her best friend in a hospital bed, after having survived something almost nobody survives...it really made her feel emotional. She approached the bed lightly and sat down in the chair beside it, almost as if it'd been placed there expecting her. Kelly slowly opened her eyes and looked towards Rachel, who just smiled at her. "Hey," Kelly whispered, "you finally showed up." "I did, yeah," Rachel replied, "I brought Yogurt. Do you want Yogurt?" "It's one of the few things they let me have in here, so not really," Kelly said, chuckling, "kind of sick of it by now, but thanks for thinking of me. I appreciate that." "How are you feeling?" Rachel asked, and Kelly pursed her lips, thinking. How was she feeling? She'd been on her way to a convention for work and somehow wound up surviving a plane crash in the process. She should be feeling invincible, but instead she found that she felt more...fragile than anything. Like life could be taken from her at any moment, because, when she faced reality, she realized that her survival was a fluke. She could've just as easily died like the others. So she didn't feel invincible. She just felt lucky. Grateful. To still be here, still have her friends, her life. "I feel..." Kelly started, "...alive." "Well that's an answer," Rachel remarked, chuckling as she pulled the lid off her Yogurt, dumped in the little granola bits on top and dug in with the tiny plastic spoon provided, adding, "when do you think you'll be able to get out of here? I mean, how bad of shape are you in?" "My left leg is completely shattered, bone wise," Kelly said, "I'll be in a cast for months. On crutches for a while, and that's if I even should be allowed out of bed. Other than that, I'm surprisingly okay. I'll probably be staying with my folks, though, since being on my own in my apartment is likely a bad idea." And just as she said this, the door to the room opened again and in walked her parents, Allen and Carol. They stopped at the sight of Rachel, surprised, having not seen her in years. Rachel stood up and set her yogurt down on the table, and was suddenly hugged tightly by them both, which surprised her. She hadn't expected such a warm welcome, especially after how things had gone down between Kelly and her in high school, but here she was, always the ever present familiar face, ready to help. "We didn't know she was having a visitor," Allen said, as he pulled away and sat down on the bedside by Kelly, stroking her face, "if we'd known we'd have come prepared with more snacks and stuff." "Oh, it's okay, I brought my own snacks," Rachel replied, snickering. Rachel's eyes then turned to Kelly's mother, Carol, who was still hugging her, looking at her. Rachel felt a sense of unease, and politely squirmed away, excusing herself. Once out in the hall, she leaned against the now shut door and breathed, her chest rising and falling fast. She didn't know why Carol had been eyeballing her the way that she had, and it made her incredibly uncomfortable. She needed comfort food. She needed a candy bar. She felt around in her back pants pocket to discover her wallet, and headed to the candy machine down the hall. If there's one thing that can calm a girls nerves, she thought, it's chocolate. *** "When I was a boy," Wyatt said, cutting his sandwich in half at the table on the outdoor patio of the bistro they'd gone to lunch for, "and not the strapping young lad you see before you now, my father and I had an okay enough relationship. I mean, it wasn't great, we weren't playing catch every day and bonding like you see in commercials, but hey, that's why they're commercials, right? An idealized lie about reality, meant to make you feel insecure about your own so you buy their product." "Wow, you really understand marketing," Celia said, sipping on her iced tea. "Well, I work in business, so," Wyatt said, taking a bite from his sandwich; he chewed, swallowed, then continued, "anyway, so we got along pretty alright. But once I got to be a teenager, I started spending a lot of time with my mom, and between that and my first girlfriend, I kind of...stopped being an asshole. I mean, I was never an asshole asshole, but I had that guy mentality that all guys start out with, right? Thinking you're the center of the universe, the best, biggest and brightest. I was never mean to women, but I also never considered them much. But my first girlfriend, Amelia, she especially opened my eyes to how hard things were for women, and after that, I started seeing my father in a whole new light, and he frankly wasn't happy about that or her." "Sounds like a wonderfully delightful man," Celia said, sticking her fork into her her chicken salad. "And then he started verbally abusing my mom," Wyatt said, "never got physical, but shit, some of the stuff he said was just downright cruel. I promised myself I'd never be like that. I wound up being sort of like that though. Not intentionally, however. When I broke things off with Amelia, I wasn't...I wasn't exactly nice about it. Besides, we were kind of dating in secret. I was already pretty popular, and she was that weird girl that everyone made fun of and I just didn't want anyone to know I was seeing her for fear of my reputation. In hindsight, that's ridiculously petty and shallow of me and I regret it every single day." "Well at least you've shown growth, recognition is the first step to betterment," Celia said, "what happened to her? How did she take it?" "Not well," Wyatt said, picking up his beer glass and taking a long drink, then adding, "she kind of...had a breakdown. My father was pleased when I started dating Scarlett though, because even in spite of her feminist mindset, she was, apparently, more socially acceptable as a woman than Amelia was. He's such a creep. I never wanna look at women the way he did or continues to do." "You know," Celia said, spearing a tiny tomato and pulling it up to her face, "if you'd told me that the most popular boy in our high school, the jock of all jocks, would wind up being a feminist, I don't think I'd have believed you, and yet here we are. Stranger things have happened I suppose." Wyatt laughed and nodded. Indeed, it was funny, even to him. "So where's Amelia these days? Is she okay?" Celia asked, and Wyatt shrugged. "You'd have to ask Calvin," Wyatt said, his voice lowering, "...she was his sister." *** Rachel pumped in the corresponding numbers and letters to the keypad and awaited her delicious treat to be given to her from the vending machine. Standing there, tapping her nails on the metal of the machine, she didn't even hear Kelly's mom, Carol, coming up from behind her. When she felt a hand on her arm, Rachel screamed a little, jumped back and then put a hand to her chest to catch her breath, half laughing. Carol was laughing as well. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," Carol said. "That's...that's okay," Rachel replied, "It's just been a tense few days, I haven't had time to do Yoga or meditate or anything." "You do Yoga and meditate?" Carol asked. "No, but I still don't have the time to," Rachel replied, making Carol laugh again. She heard the clunk of her candy bar drop into the bucket, and reached down to retrieve it. Once she pulled back the wrapper, she offered some to Carol, who politely declined. Together, with Rachel munching away on it, they walked back down the hall. "I wanted to speak with you," Carol said, "about what happened in school, between you and Kelly. We never really got a chance to talk after that, and...you were always at our house, almost like a second daughter. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Kelly was destroyed by the falling out, so I just...I wanted to make sure you were alright." "Well, considering it's been over a decade at this point, I'd say I'm pretty alright, yeah," Rachel said, "I'm managing well enough." "Rachel," Carol said, stopping in the hall, forcing Rachel to do the same and face her; she continued, "...I want you to know that we aren't mad at you. Friends have fights. Sometimes they don't come back from it. But you two did, and it didn't even take a tragedy for it to happen. You became friends again before the crash. That makes it truly genuine. You're not acting out of fear or regret. Regardless, Allen and I aren't mad with you. Especially after hearing from your mother what that man tried to do to you, even if she didn't believe it herself, we do." Rachel felt her heart flutter. Her eyes watered. "Kelly's told us a lot about you since you guys started hanging out again," Carol said, approaching Rachel and taking her hands in her own, "and we want you to know that...we accept you. Hell, we always kind of had our suspicions anyway. But we accept you nonetheless. You'll always be like a second daughter to us. We know your mother is...well, to put it bluntly, out of her damn mind, and that not having parents of any kind can make the world feel incredibly small and lonely, so we want you to know that we're here for you. You're here for Kelly, so we're here for you. We don't care if you're gay. We'll always love you." Rachel finally snapped. Everything she'd been holding back since the crash, all the tension and fear and anxiety, it finally burst through her chest like a dam of emotions, and she flooded Carol with her feelings. She threw her arms around Carol and hugged her tightly, with Carol rubbing her back, comforting her. Carol was right. The world WAS infinitely smaller and lonelier without parents, and so Rachel was happy to have some. Even if they weren't her own. Especially if they weren't her own. *** That evening, when visiting hours were almost over, Wyatt was standing outside of Kelly's room, waiting for Rachel to leave. As soon as she exited the room, shutting the door behind her, they began to walk side by side, but not speaking. Wyatt's hands were shoved in his windbreakers pockets, and from what Rachel could tell, he too had had a rather emotional afternoon. "Um..." Rachel started, "do you wanna get dinner?" "Nah, Scarlett's in a maternal mood, so I should go home to eat, what about you?" he asked. "Sun's super busy caring for her father, so I have a lot of time to myself right now," Rachel replied, scratching the back of her head, "...are you okay, dude? You look kind of like hell." "I could say the same for you," Wyatt remarked, smirking, "but yeah I'm alright. Just had a weird afternoon, remembering lots of stuff from the past, you know how it goes. Went to lunch with Celia. Talked about Calvin. That's actually what I'm here to discuss with you, is Calvin. You're closest to him. You need to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't crack further. Because Rachel...if he does...if he can't either manage himself or be managed...something will have to be done about him. We can't risk losing everything because he can't hold it together." Rachel nodded, stopping in the hall, Wyatt doing the same, facing one another. "...and what do we do if we can't?" Rachel asked quietly. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but for now..." Wyatt said, "why don't you come have dinner with my family?" Rachel smiled. She liked that idea. She might not have her own family, but she sure was accepted by everyone else's. The field was an absolute mess of a sight.
Men and women in various uniforms - firefighters, cops, medical workers - surveying the damage. Gathering bodies and putting them into body bags, then putting them into one of the numerous ambulances that were stationed there, ready to help any survivors they found, but...as of yet...they hadn't found a single one. A cough. Sheer back breaking pain. Eyes full of dust and smoke. What was even happening? What was the last thing they remembered? The plane. The plane going down, screaming, alarms. Suddenly they felt someone kneel beside them and as they rolled their half closed eyes to look up at the woman in the firefighter suit beside them, she looked ecstatic. She reached out and took their hand. "Can you hear me?" she asked, and they nodded; she grinned even more, "okay, listen to me, you need to stay still, you've likely broken something, or everything, I don't know, I'm not a doctor. Either way, I'm going to get some help for you, we're gonna get you to a hospital, okay?" They nodded again. The woman smiled sweetly, patted their hand and turned around, yelling over her shoulder. "I need some help over here! I've got a survivor!" she shouted, "I need medical staff now!" she then turned back to them and asked, "Sweetheart, what's your name? Can you remember your name?" "My name is Kelly," she whispered, "I'm Kelly." "Is there someone we should call for you Kelly?" the firefighter asked, and Kelly nodded, coughing. "Wyatt Bloom," she managed to say. *** Wyatt was sitting on the edge of the bathtub in his upstairs bathroom when he heard the door creak open, and looked up to see Rachel slowly slink into the room. He sighed and slid back into the tub actual, his legs hanging over the lip. Rachel carefully climbed in and positioned herself in the same manner, but neither one spoke. Wyatt chewed on his lip as he listened to Rachel pop the can of soda she'd brought in with her and start to drink it. "She sounded so scared," he whispered, "she sounded...terrified." "Well, I don't blame her," Rachel said, "I mean, she was on a plane going down. God knows nobody except perhaps the terminally suicidal are excited at that prospect." "Fuck...this isn't Calvin's fault. It's mine. That's the worst part. I tried so hard to blame him, but-" "Don't even," Rachel said, putting her drink down and grabbing Wyatt's hands, "don't you ever give him that freedom from the consequences of his actions, dude. He did this all on his own. He decided the Evergreens were a problem, he decided his teacher needed to go, and that's all there is to it." "They're gonna trace it all back to him," Wyatt said, "you kill one man, okay fine, you might get away with that, but you down an entire airplane? There's no excuse for that. And I guarantee you he didn't know how to build a different kind of bomb. I guarantee that he made the exact same kind, and once that gets out, they'll trace it right back to the bomb that killed Grudin." "Then let him take the fall," Rachel whispered, and this surprised Wyatt, who, up to this point, had been under the impression that Rachel was far more protective of people than he was; she shook her head and wiped her eyes, "she was my best friend, even after we fell out I still cared about her, and...and reconnecting with her was wonderful. And he took that away from me. So fuck Calvin. Let him go down in flames. If they need a scapegoat, let them scape him." Wyatt nodded slowly as Rachel handed him her soda and he smiled, taking a long drink before Celia entered as well. "Uh..." she said, "there's a hospital on the phone for you, Wyatt." Wyatt and Rachel exchanged a look, and he furrowed his brow in confusion. "...it's Kelly," Celia said, "...she's alive." *** When Angie Dickenson had been a little girl, she went to church every single Sunday, but this wasn't the typical church. Her parents were part of a group that didn't exactly worship the usual god, but instead a man who promised them eternal salvation. A man who went by the name Art Johnson. So every Sunday, they would get dressed up and they would drive down to the church he owned, and they would listen to him preach. And despite the fact that they were no longer associated with what was essentially a cult, Angie couldn't help but feel the need, the desire, to worship someone. She thought she found that someone in Oliver Brighton, but now...now she found that she far preferred to worship Wyatt Bloom. She was sitting on her bed, cross legged and scrolling on her laptop while wearing track shorts and a tank top, her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She hadn't showered since the news of the crash broke. It'd been a whole day, and she was still completely obsessed with looking up information of Wyatt - not hard to obtain when one was an active member of their local community, business owner and former star of the high school baseball team - and printing it all out, creating a bible of sorts. The door to her bedroom opened, and her mother popped in. Angie looked up from her screen, black licorice hanging from her lips. "We're going to have dinner soon," her mother said, "Are you hungry?" Angie nodded, not speaking. "Did you take your medication?" her mother asked, and Angie nodded; her mother smiled, "okay, good, dinner will be ready in about ten. Wash up before you come down." But Angie hadn't taken it. She hadn't taken it since leaving the Evergreens, tired of being under the control of chemicals and instead opting to be under the control of another outside source. A man she deemed to be worthy of worship. A man who had somehow foreseen the plane crash and warned her not to join them on it. Wyatt didn't know it of course, but his one act of decency would only become an enormous problem soon on down the road. *** Calvin had left Wyatt's after their scuffle, and was now hiding in his shed. He was sitting in total silence, no music, no television, nothing but the sound of air itself surrounding him. He looked to the lockbox sitting on a nearby upper shelf, and he slid off the stool and walked towards it. Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around the edges, pulling it down from its not so hiding spot, and placed it on the workshop table, pulled the key from a drawer of a nearby table and unlocked the box, pulling out a small, black revolver. When he'd first thought about killing Grudin, he'd thought about shooting him, and purchased this pistol, but in the end he figured that was far too easy, and Grudin deserved worse. So he'd kept the gun, but never had a purpose for it, until now. Calvin reached into the box and gripped the pistol by the handle, lifting it and admiring it. Calvin seated himself back on the stool and looked at the pistol gleaming under the sheds soft flourescent lights. His breathing got heavier, as he thought about his wife...his daughter....Kelly. He couldn't stand all this grief, especially the grief he himself had played a part in. Calvin lifted the gun to the side of his head and placed his finger on the trigger. He shut his eyes, feeling tears roll down his face, and exhaled. All it would take was one simple gesture. A singular motion and it'd all be over. He'd be with his wife, his daughter, he'd exit this entire mess known as existence. He bit his lip and shook his head slowly. Everyone would be grateful. This was what Wyatt wanted anyway, he knew it. Suddenly his phone rang, and his eyes opened. He reached for the phone on the table and picked up. "Hello?" he asked. "Calvin, it's Rachel," Rachel said, "...we're at the hospital. Don't know if you should come, but I figured someone should at least tell you that Kelly is alive." Calvin felt the air punched from him. Had he really heard what he'd thought he'd heard? Kelly had lived? Impossible. How could that even happen? Calvin set the gun down on the table, thanked Rachel for the information and then hung up the phone, placing it beside the gun before exhaling deeply a few times. Maybe...just maybe...it wasn't time to leave just yet. *** Wyatt, Celia and Rachel were sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, none of them seemingly able to process the fact that Kelly had, somehow against all odds, survived a plane crash caused by a bomb. After a bit of pacing, Rachel put her hands on her hips and looked at Celia and Wyatt sitting on the chairs near the large window. "I'm gonna go get some food, does anyone want anything?" she asked. "Cafeteria food or something edible?" Wyatt asked. "Is now really the time you want to get semantic about quality?" Rachel asked, and Wyatt shrugged; she smirked and continued, "I was gonna go to the deli down the street. I'll bring back whatever, just...tell me what you guys want." "I want a sandwich, something...italian, with cheese and salami and...whatever," Wyatt said, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet, sliding a credit card from it and handing it to Rachel, adding, "use my credit card, don't spend your own money, I got this. I got everything okay? And bring back coffee. Lots of coffee. Hard coffee." "Will do," Rachel said, before turning and exiting, leaving them alone. Wyatt leaned back in the chair and exhaled, looking up at the ceiling as Celia crossed her legs and shook her head. "You know," Celia said, "if you'd told me almost 6 months ago when we met at the reunion that we'd be sitting here, waiting to know the condition of someone we didn't even know then, I wouldn't have believed it. Everything since then has felt so unreal. It's almost been half a year, and...and I just...none of it feels real, Wyatt. Does it feel real to you?" A long pause, as Wyatt thought, licking his lips. "...for as long as I can remember, being out of high school hasn't felt real. Graduation just felt like a celebration, but a momentary one, you know? Like a birthday or a holiday or something. Not something that would signify the eternal shift into another moment of life altogether. You go to school for 18 years, and that's not counting college which can add on significantly to that timespan, and then suddenly...you just aren't doing that anymore. I worry about Mona. About whether she'll manage to make the adjustment to adulthood or not, because sure, I managed it, but I don't enjoy it. I wish it hadn't happened. Going to that reunion...it was...it was like going back in time, and it was the first time in years I'd felt like I was actually alive again." Celia nodded solemnly, listening. She could understand this line of thinking, honestly. While she'd managed to make the transition easier than others, she still yearned for the time of her youth. "Wyatt," Celia said, putting a hand on his knee, "you know this isn't your fault, right? You didn't cause this. Calvin did this all on his own. Grudin? Yeah, you might be able to be held at least semi accountable for that, but this? This was all on him. He's dangerous, and...and we need to come up with a plan for the inevitable, because if he's capable of this, I fear he might be capable of anything." Wyatt nodded in agreement. Celia had brought this up before, and Wyatt wasn't one to argue, especially at this point. Calvin had proven himself entirely unhinged, and willing to do awful things because to him the ends justify the means. Rachel returned a bit after this with food and coffee for everyone, and they waited, chatting, Rachel sharing a lot of stories about her and Kelly in school together to lighten the mood. After a bit, Celia left to go home for her son, Rachel dipped in order to get home to Sun Rai, and that left Wyatt all alone. When Wyatt was finally woken up, being shaken gently on the shoulder by a nurse, his blurry eyes immediately glanced at the watch on his wrist. 4am. He groaned and sat up, wiping the sleep from his face. "Your friend is awake, and wants to see you," the nurse said, smiling at him, "if you'll follow me." Wyatt immediately jumped up, best he could, and followed the nurse down a long hall, into an elevator and up three floors. Once there, she led him to a room, opened the door and let him enter. Wyatt walked in cautiously, unsure of what he was about to walk into, but when he saw Kelly, in all her rather undamaged glory, lying in the hospital bed, he felt all the anxiety and fear from the last 48 hours leave his chest. He smiled and sat down in a green metal chair beside the bed as Kelly rolled her head to look at him. "You look alright," Wyatt said. "What did you expect me to look like?" Kelly asked, half laughing, half wheezing. "I don't know, deformed or something, you were in a plane crash for fucks sake," Wyatt replied, "who knows what kind of monstrous Mr. Potato Head deal they'd have to create to salvage your looks." Kelly laughed, which hurt her chest, but it felt good to laugh again. "Why me?" Wyatt asked. "Why you what?" "Why am I your emergency contact?" Wyatt asked, and Kelly sighed. "...it was Rachel," Kelly said, "but I changed it after we started being friends, because she and I were still on such shaky ground. I didn't want to list my parents, cause they'd just freak out about it. But you're reserved, you keep a cool head, you're a smart man, and you care. I guess cause I trust you. I also didn't know anyone else to add. I don't really have many friends outside of you guys." "That's hard to imagine, with how likeable and charismatic you are," Wyatt said, smirking, making her laugh again. Wyatt wouldn't admit it, but he was so beyond relieved. Since meeting Kelly, he'd really come to genuinely appreciate her friendship, her insight, her enthusiasm. She was infectious in all the best, most non lethal ways, and he would've hated to have lost that just when he was getting used to it. But of course he didn't tell her who put the bomb in her bag, or that Calvin was involved at all. He kept her shielded from all that, because the less she knew the better. He'd already gotten so many other women involved in such sketchy activity, he didn't want to bring Kelly down to that level too. He was tired of hurting women, even unintentionally. He wasn't his father. *** When Wyatt got home that morning, he found that Scarlett and the kids were still gone. He showered, he ate breakfast, then got dressed to go to work. As he exited the house, briefcase in hand, he had no idea that right across the street, parked on the opposite side, was Angie Dickenson. She jotted down something in her small, black notebook and then watched him pull out of his driveway and head down the road to work. Once his car was well out of sight, Angie climbed out from her own car and headed across the street to the driveway, staring up at his house. So this was where a man of his stature, his importance, lived. She pulled her phone from her pocket and took a few quick shots of it, smiling to herself the whole time. Some men or worship have churches. Wyatt had a two story suburban home. |
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A group of former high school classmates reunite at their 10 year reunion, and discover they each want something different, many with someone else there. What ensues is a labyrinthian relationship amongst them involving crime, murder, romance and, in one particular case, terrorism. Archives
May 2024
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