(no subject)
Title: Horror
Part: Four
Pairing: Flones and Pudd.
Rating: 15
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything, except the monster/dog/spirit thing and the receptionist.
Dedications: Mostly to JuddPoynter, because of her AMAZING crack!fic, and I really hope she wins. Also, to Danny, Becky, McFlyStargirl, Orpheous87, Foreverlove_xx, and Jedisnickers. For commenting, reading, and loving!
A/N: Danny’s point of view to start with, then it changes to Harry’s.
The next morning, I awake and open my eyes to see the bottom of the bed above me. I punched it, before turning onto my side and falling out of it the other way in shock. Someone accompanied me in the bed. His grey eyes glint, and black hair seems to wave around even without a breeze.
I peered over the side at the stranger, raised an eyebrow and spoke in a quiet voice. “What the fuck, are you doing in my bed?” I question, and he shrugs before answering shortly.
“Kicks.” I raise both eyebrows, and he smiles at me; bearing his teeth as I smell something along the lines of Dougie’s feet.
For a moment, he vanishes, and then I smell his breath behind me. I whip around, and grimace at the stench. “What’s up, Danny boy? Can’t stand rotting flesh?” he grins again, showing yellow and chipped teeth. They’re enormously undersized, and looked like they’ve been filed down by something metallic.
He’s so close to me; I can smell cigarette smoke around his person and something that makes me think of hand-held sparklers you get at carnivals. “What...who are you?” I say, practically choking on the air coming from his lungs. “What, am I?” he asks, almost mocking me. “I, Danny, am what made Tom see your nightmare, I am what possess him, I am what shut Dougie in the lift and bit his ear. I am what...” he stops, and smirks, “Actually; you’ll have to find that one out.”
I stare at the man with rotten breath in disgust. I continue to glare at him, until he speaks again. “Speaking of which, I must go and cause some havoc! TAHTAH!” he grins, before vanishing with a loud bang as smoke fills the room.
I run a hand through my hair, until my fingers get stuck in a knot. I pull it out again, and sigh heavily. “Fuck,” I mutter, before standing myself up and checking my clothes. I roll my eyes at my boxers, can’t be bothered to put clean ones on, and grab my jeans from across the top bunk. I pull them on, stumbling about as I’m still stood up, and stretch my freckled arms above my head.
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I have been racking my brains for a while, thinking of where in France Danny could have gone. He doesn’t know his way around, and the only places we have been to since arriving that interested him were the Airport, and the YMCA. Wait a moment, the YMCA! The place that Danny suggested we stay at when Tom hadn’t made a reservation at all.
I suppose the main reason why I want to find him, is because I’m pretty sure Dougie likes him. Like, likes him. I hate that, really, but I can’t help the way he feels. You can’t force someone to fall in love. Anyway, Dougie doesn’t want me. I’ve been ignoring him lately and throwing insults at him, I know I shouldn’t but it’s mainly to punish myself for loving him.
Sheesh, I’m crying now. I’m such a fucking woos, I am. Anyway, to the YMCA I’m now walking so that I can get Danny back and make Dougie happy again. The roads are busy today; I suppose it’s probably a Friday. I have no idea, seeing as I don’t care about anything other than making Dougie happy. I felt so shit when I threw up because of that dog.
The YMCA’s really tatty, bricks are missing and one of the windows is smashed. I can hear loud moaning and creaking coming from one close to me. I shake my head, before pushing open the grubby door and stepping towards the desk with a sign reading “English” on it.
The receptionist is a teenager, covered in spots with greasy brown hair. “Heh, another McFly boy.” He says, and nods his head towards a long corridor. “Room four,” he mumbles, before turning back to his computer and pulling headphones on. I hear Billy Talent blaring into his ears, and shrug before walking down the seemingly endless corridor to number four.
The walls are white and bare, with wallpaper peeling in places and felt tip pen scrawled here and there. Number four was a blue door, with a giant orange handle on it. I hear a bump, accompanied by a very northern “Ah, fuck it,” from behind the door.
I push the handle down, and pull the door on its practically invisible hinges. “D-Danny?” I stammer, and the Boltoner looks around at me; blue eyes wide and awake. “Ha-Harry? What are you...why are you...huh?” he looks like he’s about to pass out from confusion, so I enter his room; closing the door behind me.
I look around the place, noting there are only a bunk bed, window and sofa. “So, Danny, I came to get you back.” I say, calmly, with Dougie on my mind. When I hear no reply, excepting a gasp, I look up to see Danny staring at the ceiling; a blob of crimson on his nose and running into his mouth. I carefully follow his gaze, and taste vomit as I don’t like what I see.
The receptionist from along the corridor is up there; eyes open in terror and mouth gaping. Out of his mouth sticks what looks like a fire poker and blood is running down its length; dripping at the end onto Danny’s nose and open mouth. The teenager’s legs have been positioned so that his thighs are nailed to the ceiling, and his knees are broken so his legs hang down from above us.
His arms are nailed across him like the ancient Egyptian style. Huge, rusty nails piercing flesh and working their way through bone. I forget that Danny is stood nearby, until he attempts speech. “You know, this thing’s following me.” Is what he tries to say, until I watch him spit out the blood that fills his mouth and repeats it.
“What?” I mutter, walking over to him to gain eye contact. The blood of the ex-receptionist proceeds to drip on us, but I don’t mind it; even as it flows over my eye. “This,” he gestures above us, “Thing is following me, and trying to kill the closest person to me.” He tells me, and I mutter under my breath, “Dougie,” I sigh, and he shoots me a confused look.
“Dougie? No, Tom.” He notices my gaze has returned to the teenage boy on the ceiling, and pulls my head back down by the chin. “Harry, listen to me. You need to keep away, understand? It’s for your own good. Now the thing’s not in Tom anymore I don’t know what it will do.” He sighs, but doesn’t look away from me. I look right back at him with a blank expression.
“Harry, just go.” He mumbles, before wrapping his arms around me and then pushing me off. I watch him as he walks over to the window; looking out of it. I don’t move, but speak instead. “I’ve come to get you back, that’s what I intend to do.” He turns his head, so that he can talk to me and not the window.
“Why?” he turns to me fully, and I look at the now bloodstained floor.
“Because...Dougie’s not happy without you...” I mumble, and he snorts loudly. I flick my gaze to him, and he’s now looking at me in amusement. “What?” I ask, and he walks over to me again.
“If he’s not happy, go cheer him up.” He mumbles, before turning me around and pushing me through the door of his room. He slams the door behind me, and I’m just stood there in befuddlement. I continue to stare at the wall in front of me, graffiti reading something that I won’t repeat in French.
After a while, I turn and keep walking until I’m out on the humid pavement again. It’s become surprisingly busy since I went into the YMCA. People all seem to be in a rush, so they don’t really notice when I walk around back to the hotel in a complete daze. Tom’s there waiting for me, we share a room at the moment until Dougie returns from hospital.
Tom’s lying, asleep, on the sofa and I accidently wake him when I enter the room. He looks up at me, and smiles blearily. “You got him back?” he mumbles, and I shake my head. “Oh, come here.” He pulls his legs off the sofa, stretching his arms way above his head, and I plonk myself down next to him.
“We can go visit Dougz again today, alright? But first you are having breakfast whether you like it or not. You haven’t eaten since he was run down.” Tom tells me, getting up like he had always been awake, and walking over to the ‘kitchen’ area of the hotel room. I just sit, watching the wall again, until some cocoa pops were shoved on my lap.
I look down at the chocolate rice things, and then at Tom who is eating honey nut loops next to me. “Meh,” he says, between mouthfuls, “You think I can be bothered to cook when I’ve just got up?” I shrug, smiling faintly, before finishing off what was considered ‘Breakfast.’
“Dougie Poynter?” I said to the receptionist, and she nodded; directing us down white corridors that smelt of disinfectant, vomit, and sounded of screams, talking and crying.
Dougie’s door was shut, so we knocked before going in. He sat up instantly when we entered, and I rushed over to him; embracing him like we’d been apart for ages. He laughs, and says “Alright, Harry, I’d rather not choke.” So I let go of him. I smile widely at the boy, well not anymore, in front of me and he smiles simply back.
“How are you doing, Dougie?” I mumble, sitting in the bedside chair and holding his hand. He shrugs, and I notice that his ear has a new bandage on it. “I’m fine; actually, they’re just paranoid because I’m unharmed except for the ear. Keep doing checks and shit.” I smile, before I feel a tear starting to trickle down my cheek. Dougie looks at me with genuine concern, and wipes it away with a finger. “Hey, what’s the matter with you?” he asks, and I just shake my head.
“I’m just, really glad you’re alright!” I sniff, and he leans his forehead against mine. I continue to stare at my hands, a single drop landing on them. The tears stop falling after that one, but I still feel like I could cry more. “Harry, I’m going to go out for a bit. I might see if I can get Danny back, okay?” Tom says to my side, and I nod against Dougie’s head.
A few seconds later, and I hear the door closing behind him. I look up, to see that Dougie’s eyes are watching me. This close, I can see speckles of grey amongst the usual blue. He smells of hospital food, and his hand feels really dry in mine. “You’re alright then, are you?” I mumble, there’s no need to speak normally this close. He closes his eyes, and smiles at me.
I watch him, breath in his natural scent which is faint under disgusting bean smell. I love the way he smells, for some reason. I’m drawn to it like Danny to kid’s shows. “Dougie,” I whisper, eyes flicking to his lips and then back to his closed eyes again. He makes a noise a lot like “Mmhmm?” and I answer gruffly. “Dougie, open your eyes please.” His eyelids snap open, and his eyebrows tip inwards. He smiles, and I realize his eyes are no longer blue.
“Dougz, Pugsley, what the hell’s happened to your eyes...” I mutter, before something clicks, and I fall off of my chair backwards. I look up at Dougie from the floor, and see that he’s floating about three inches above the bed.
“Haz? What’s the matter?” he mutters, and I notice his eyes are normal again. However, he’s still floating. “D-Dougz? Mate, you’re floating.” I mumble, and he looks down; instantly thudding back to the bed. “No I’m not, Haz.” He says, before pushing back his covers and sitting down on the floor with me. He has to stretch his legs out in front of him; so that I don’t see up the patient’s cloak.
“Harry.” He says, and smiles. “Harry Mark Christopher Judd.” I raise an eyebrow, before mimicking him. “Dougie. Dougie Lee Poynter.” I smile at the younger boy next to me, loving the way he chuckles and smiles back. His laughter dies, however, and his tone turns a whole lot more serious. “Harry? Can I ask you something?” he says, and my heart starts to thump almost painfully against my ribs.
I tell myself not to get too hopeful, and look at my hands to hide my flushed face. “What is it, Dougz?” I ask, and he comes straight out with it. No hesitations.
“How did you know, when you...were gay?” I freeze, eyes fixated on my locked hands. I gulp, heavily, and tell him. “Probably when...when I fancied...Danny...” I whisper.
Dougie seems to tense next to me, “You are in love with Danny?” he mutters, and I realise where he misunderstood me. “No, Dougie! You’ve got it all wrong. I don’t like Danny like that anymore!” I protest, but he holds up a hand to silence me. “There’s no use denying, Harry,” he mumbles. He must hate me now; he thinks we both fancy the same guy.
“Dougie, I used to love him. I love you now.” I sigh, but I’m already outside the hospital. I mutter this to my shoes, wishing that I’d said it when I had the chance.
“Harry, is it me or are you following me?” Danny muses as he stands before me. I scowl at the reason Dougie hates me, and it looks sadly back. “What?” he asks, and I push past him; deliberately crunching our shoulders together. “You’re right.” I drawl, “We should stay away from you.”Multiple/Unknown Chaptered