Dark Days
You just don't understand.
He doesn't. He really doesn't. He's a smart guy. Some people say he has a brain like a computer, able to calculate millions upon millions of different linguistic combinations in a fraction of a second - a flesh and blood Enigma machine - but he can't hope to understand this.
Pyro. John. J. He has a good memory of it all, from the scruffy kid who turned up at the mansion one day, to poker games in a barn, to hearing in the Blackbird that he had gone forever. Bumping into him on Providence and swapping insults. Swapping saliva in a treehouse. Having sex. Falling in love. Risking their lives for each other...
And what the hell was all of that? He'd thought it was something to hold onto, despite Pyro's career, despite their disagreements, despite society itself trying to rip them apart. Pyro had tried to break up with him before, and they'd talked through it, and they'd come out stronger than before.
But this time... he'd barely been able to talk. Pyro had just gone. Pyro had cheated on him. Hadn't even tried to talk or apologize or explain, as if Doug was nothing more than the geeky fourteen-year-old John Allerdyce had barely cast a second glance.
Maybe he'd been that stupid kid, after all. Maybe he'd been reading too much into it. They're only teenagers. It wasn't as if they were going to get married and settle down and have kids. It wasn't as if Pyro was going to be the only one.
Doug sits on the floor of Pyro's house and absently strips pine needles from the Christmas tree. He should go. He should angrily storm out. But he's in the middle of Kansas with a federal warrant for his arrest. There really isn't anywhere he could go that wouldn't put his friends at risk. So he's stuck here, in Pyro's house, with Pyro's stuff everywhere. He might as well be in jail.
Nettik is lying on the floor in front of him, looking about as depressed as a kitten can be. Doug reaches out and scratches her between the ears.
He doesn't understand. But he'll figure something out.
He doesn't. He really doesn't. He's a smart guy. Some people say he has a brain like a computer, able to calculate millions upon millions of different linguistic combinations in a fraction of a second - a flesh and blood Enigma machine - but he can't hope to understand this.
Pyro. John. J. He has a good memory of it all, from the scruffy kid who turned up at the mansion one day, to poker games in a barn, to hearing in the Blackbird that he had gone forever. Bumping into him on Providence and swapping insults. Swapping saliva in a treehouse. Having sex. Falling in love. Risking their lives for each other...
And what the hell was all of that? He'd thought it was something to hold onto, despite Pyro's career, despite their disagreements, despite society itself trying to rip them apart. Pyro had tried to break up with him before, and they'd talked through it, and they'd come out stronger than before.
But this time... he'd barely been able to talk. Pyro had just gone. Pyro had cheated on him. Hadn't even tried to talk or apologize or explain, as if Doug was nothing more than the geeky fourteen-year-old John Allerdyce had barely cast a second glance.
Maybe he'd been that stupid kid, after all. Maybe he'd been reading too much into it. They're only teenagers. It wasn't as if they were going to get married and settle down and have kids. It wasn't as if Pyro was going to be the only one.
Doug sits on the floor of Pyro's house and absently strips pine needles from the Christmas tree. He should go. He should angrily storm out. But he's in the middle of Kansas with a federal warrant for his arrest. There really isn't anywhere he could go that wouldn't put his friends at risk. So he's stuck here, in Pyro's house, with Pyro's stuff everywhere. He might as well be in jail.
Nettik is lying on the floor in front of him, looking about as depressed as a kitten can be. Doug reaches out and scratches her between the ears.
He doesn't understand. But he'll figure something out.