FICLET: SHADES OF NIGHT, DEBL_NS, SAM/GENE, GREEN CORTINA
Title: Shades of Night
Author: debl_ns
Rating: Green Cortina
Word Count: 599
Summary: The girl in the red dress tells Sam that Gene isn't real. Written for basaltgrrl, using her prompt Sam crying.
Sam awoke just before half three. He listened to Gene snoring beside him and tried to go back to sleep, but the need to piss was too strong. He sat up and yawned. Getting up from the bed, he went into the cramped toilet to relieve himself. When he was finished, he turned on the hot water tap, letting the water cascade over his cold fingers, before drying himself. He padded back into the room. The Test Card Girl was sitting at Gene's feet, in her red dress, holding Bubbles the clown. Sam felt a sharp pain in his chest.
He looked quickly at the television. It was casting a soft glow over the room. The test card was broadcasting with a tone, but the little blond girl and her green clown were absent. He swung his head around. She was still seated on the bed, regarding him intently. “W-Why are you looking at me like that?” he stammered.
“He's not real you know, Sam,” she answered.
“Go away.” He looked at the television again. The girl was still missing from the test card. Sam broke out into a cold sweat.
“He's not real,” the child repeated.
Gene grunted and rolled over. Sam's Adam's apple bobbed up and down like a buoy resting on water. “What do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean,” she said seriously, twisting the clown's yarn hair in her fingers. She glanced down into its white face. “He's afraid.”
Sam stared at Gene. It had felt good. “Not any more. The fear went away.”
All of a sudden, the little girl was standing next to him. The clown's diamond-shaped eyes bored into his. “What's it like to be mad, Sam?”
Sam stood there in silence. Without warning, she vanished. He saw that the girl in the red dress was back inside the test card with Bubbles, playing noughts and crosses.
“What were you doing?” Gene asked, his voice drowsy. He squinted and scratched his chest.
Sam looked down at his hands. They were shaking a little. “D-Doing? Took a piss.”
“You were talking to yourself.”
Sam's head shot up. “Oh?” He fixed his eyes on the soiled, tattered wallpaper. The big flowers looked unearthly instead of ugly.
“Yes. Nothing wrong with my ears.”
Sam didn't answer. He could feel himself getting tears in his eyes. He raised his hand to his face then looked at his hand. A tear had beaded there like a raindrop on a pane of glass. Sam wiped them all away with one stroke. “I … I love you,” he said, his voice thick.
“Glad to hear it.” Gene stretched out his hand and ran it over the blankets. “Come back to bed, you soppy git. It's cold, and I've lost the feeling in both my legs.”
Sam pulled back the blankets and slipped under them. He didn't even need to look at Gene to know that Gene was looking at him like he always did when they were alone--like an old friend. Gene flung his arm around him, and Sam let him pull him close. He was acutely aware of every place on their bodies that was touching, of the heat from Gene's body and the smell of sandalwood. He listened to Gene breathing in and out. When Gene put his hand on his back, Sam stiffened for a moment then relaxed into him. As he started to drift off, he thought: Gene had to be real. Didn't he?