New Winslow S8E30
Noah had finally convinced Andrew that he was not going to stay up all night as well. Andrew was still injured, he hadn’t slept for two hours on a magic shop floor earlier that day, and he needed to go to bed. It had been a battle and Noah felt a bit like he did after fighting Mia at bedtime, even to the point of lingering in the room for a while to make sure he actually went to sleep. And Noah was so tempted to climb in beside him, just curl up against the warmth of his body and forget about all of this for a few hours. But he needed to be sure he’d fall asleep tomorrow morning, so he wasn’t going to even risk it.
This was his last shot to avoid more tinkering in his head or soul and he needed to take it seriously. So he was going to watch horror movies, drink Diet Coke, and not do anything even remotely relaxing until the sun was up and Liv had gotten at least eight hours of sleep and was ready to join him.
As he was putting the first movie into the DVD player, there was a knock at his door. The only person who wouldn’t walk in immediately after was Cleo, and sure enough, she was standing on the landing when he opened the door.
“What’s up?” Noah asked. “Are you staying tonight?”
“Yeah, but Liv’s already in bed and I figured you could use some company.”
Was this to make sure he didn’t drink any whiskey with his horror movies? But maybe he was being paranoid and she just knew that long dark hours with nothing but his thoughts and scary movies were going to be a lot harder than he hoped. “Yeah, thanks,” he said. “There’s seltzers in the fridge, help yourself. Or Diet Coke, but you’re not staying up all night.”
He thought she might argue and then he’d be in the exact same boat he’d been in an hour earlier with Andrew. But she just nodded and headed toward the fridge.
“You were going to finish it without me?” Cleo asked with mock hurt as she walked back in and saw the DVD menu screen.
Right, they’d started this one together in the spring. Before his memory had been torn open and he’d temporarily lost two years of his life. The room was slightly colder now and any frustration Noah had with Cleo’s presence vanished as he realized he would have connected the dots in a little while anyway. Only then he would have been alone with the reminder of what had happened.
“No, I was just getting it ready before you got here,” he lied, and she laughed.
Since neither of them could remember exactly where they’d left off, they just started the movie over. Not that it mattered, the same repulsive jumpscares still got them both. At one point, they were both holding their hands over their mouths to stifle their screams.
“You’re gonna wake Andrew up!” Cleo scolded lightly later on, disregarding her own pained moan at one truly disgusting death less than five minutes earlier.
It was much nicer having someone here, not that it would have been worth keeping Andrew awake to keep him company. But Cleo assured him she would go downstairs and sleep at some point. So Noah allowed himself to just enjoy her company.
He wanted to have a conversation, either about her opinion on his plan, or maybe get her take on the story Andrew had told him earlier about her phone call with that weird website guy. But he didn’t get around to it during the two movies they watched before Cleo fell asleep on his couch.
The roar of ocean waves in his ears woke Noah, and he realized he had dozed off for about twenty minutes as six or seven more people were eviscerated on screen. He went for another can of soda and when he got back, Cleo was awake.
“Sorry,” she said, smoothing out her long hair and pulling it back into a ponytail.
He shook his head, cracking the can and trying not to wish it was a beer. “It’s fine, I fell asleep for a few minutes too. You should head to bed though.”
She started to say something, but Noah held up a hand. “I’m fine, I’m just going to watch a few more movies. Liv’ll come up once she’s awake and then I’ll sleep for a while.”
“You’re sure you’re fine?”
He held up the next DVD he’d chosen at random, another gory film from the same college roommate. “I’ll be fine.”
She walked out with another reminder to tell her if he needed anything. Alone again, Noah started his next movie.
——–
Six hours later, Olivia had fulfilled her side of the bargain and was sitting in Noah’s recliner, looking out the window at the birds in their backyard. Three of them were sitting on the covered woodpile and she could see the extravagant display of bird shit splattered on the tarp around their chirping little circle.
“Someday,” Noah said from where he was lying on the couch, staring up at his living room ceiling. “I’m going to go to sleep and I’m not going to have a goddamn audience.”
“Yeah, well, today’s not that day,” Olivia murmured as the birds flew away.
It was eight in the morning and, sure enough, Noah had stayed up all night watching gory horror movies like he said he would. She was a little surprised at his hesitation about this whole “door” thing after weeks of insisting he go in, guns blazing. Trying one more time without any intervention ran completely counter to his whole argument. But he had done his part, he’d reached Billy McBride and convinced him to work with them. And now it seemed he had no choice but to take the next steps, no matter how obvious the alternatives seemed to the living people involved in this.
The entire thing still made Olivia nervous, of course it did. What would it require to actually reach into his mind and make the door that was naturally in her own? Yet more fingers poking around in his brain, as he’d put it. And he didn’t know how it would work or what would change after. This idea had kept her up too long last night, not that she told him that.
So this was the last shot to keep that from happening. He’d try to open himself to Billy without any outside help and Olivia would be here both to see if Billy would talk and to make sure it didn’t kill Noah.
“Yesterday I felt like I was in a fishbowl,” Noah muttered, shifting on the couch. “I’m literally lying on a yoga mat, trying to fall asleep. I don’t know how I actually did.”
“Do you want me to leave for a little while?” she asked.
“If you want,” Noah replied. “I’m not doing anything exciting.”
He didn’t really sound like he wanted that, despite his words. And she’d rather stay here and get this over with if they could. So they stayed quiet for a little while, Noah shifting impatiently on the couch while Olivia tried to focus on the book she was reading on her phone. The room was dim and the horror movies he’d been watching last night were scattered on the floor in front of the TV, the cover of one of them turning her stomach. That detail didn’t seem particularly necessary, but it was his life.
After a little while, Olivia realized he hadn’t been grumbling at her in a bit. She glanced over to see him asleep, facing away from her toward the back of the couch. There was nothing for her to do beyond wait for any sign that his plan had worked. So she went back to her book, glancing up from time to time to check in.
“I want to go home.”
The familiar refrain pulled her away from a story that was getting tediously repetitive. She looked up to see him now facing the ceiling, eyes still closed. “Billy?”
The amulet sat beside her on the armrest of the recliner. So if he was there, he should be able to hear her. “Please…” Noah mumbled.
“Billy, can you hear me?”
He groaned, then was silent for a moment. “I want…”
A thin trickle of blood came from one nostril and she was moving forward to shake him awake when his eyes opened and he gave a sharp, pained, gasp. Noah swore, clutching his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. Olivia rushed over, but he opened his eyes and wiped his nose on his sleeve, leaving a long streak of blood down both the sleeve and the side of his face.
“I tried,” he forced out. “There’s no door. He was there, so we tried and I could almost see it, like this thick wall his voice couldn’t get through.”
He groaned. “Fuck, it hurts so bad.”
Her heart sank, but this didn’t seem to have caused major damage. His nose had stopped bleeding almost immediately and as she sat on the couch beside him and put a cold hand on his forehead, he sighed with relief. “That plan didn’t work,” he said, eyes still tightly closed. “God that feels good. Your hands are not healthy. Jesus, Liv, get your circulation checked.”
They stayed there for a moment. “Is this how it felt?” she asked him.
He was quiet for a second and she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I didn’t die this time, but when he tried to talk through me, it was the same pain. It won’t work this way and he’s losing his mind.”
He groaned again. “Fuck, I need a…”
She knew what he’d been about to say, and he clearly noticed. “Tylenol,” he finished.
“I’ll get it,” she said. “And I’ll go with you this afternoon. Back to Iris’s.”
“Are you sure?”
She was almost hurt he had to ask.
——
Andrew was at Forest Charms for a short shift, trying to focus on the lone customer they’d had that day and her concerns about the brand of essential oils Iris was selling. How had she even known they were open? One of the windows was still boarded up because Iris had not wanted to spend the money just yet to fix it. The other had been a reluctant splurge so that they could stay open. But he’d seen how miserable she was when setting the appointment to have it fixed yet again when they all knew Roland would shatter it the first chance he got.
“It’s not as high quality as some of the others available on the market,” the woman was saying as Andrew nodded along, using every ounce of polish he’d picked up working in sales to make himself seem engaged. “I could connect her with some manufacturers. It would really be worth the expense.”
Andrew wasn’t sure he was worth the expense lately, let alone the essential oils they weren’t really selling. His shift was over when Iris walked back in the door, so he was keeping a discreet eye on the front while he bagged the woman’s small purchase and listened to her sales pitch.
The door opened as the woman slid Andrew her business card, then slipped away. “Go ahead,” Iris said to him without even an attempt at a polite greeting.
“How was it?” he attempted at least.
“Just some off energy. I cleansed it and now I can pay my mortgage this month,” Iris said. “Thank you for coming in.”
“I needed a distraction,” Andrew admitted. “They’re trying one more time before tonight.”
Iris nodded, then got a faraway look in her eyes, just for a second, while Andrew tried not to read into it. “Hang on,” she said, disappearing into the shelves and coming back with a small box. “Pain relief patches, it’s all herbal.”
Andrew looked at the box. He’d tried something similar the other day and all it had done was make him smell like a garden center. “Thank you?”
“Sorry, I mean, in case Noah wants to try them.”
“Is he hurt?”
“I don’t know,” Iris said. “Probably not. But bring them anyway.”
Right. He definitely wasn’t going to panic, not based on something Iris may or may not have sensed. Liv or Noah would have called him, it was fine. But he still drove home a little faster and a little more recklessly than Liv probably would appreciate him doing in her car had she known. He got home and went straight up to Noah’s flat, giving a light knock before opening the door.
Noah was lying on the couch, seemingly asleep, with Gray Lady purring on his stomach. He was breathing and alive, and Andrew didn’t want to bother him when he had limited time to rest before going back to Iris’s shop. But before he could slip back out the door, Noah lifted a hand and waved him over.
“I’m awake,” he muttered, not bothering to open his eyes.
“How did it go?”
“It didn’t. And now I’ve got a bitch of a headache.”
“Iris sent over some patches for you.”
Noah opened his eyes and squinted suspiciously at the box in Andrew’s hand. “How did she know?”
Andrew shrugged as he pulled out an individually wrapped patch and opened it. The smell of camphor oil and eucalyptus greeted him as he moved closer to Noah. “Here.”
He pulled the damp patch out of the foil packet, unfolded it, and applied it to Noah’s forehead, smoothing it out gently. “That smells so bad,” Noah said.
“It does, doesn’t it? Does it help?”
“No clue.”
Right, it had been less than thirty seconds. Andrew went to leave, but Noah motioned for him to stop. “It didn’t work,” he said.
“I know. And you don’t have to do this.”
It was a familiar refrain, the start of an argument he and Noah had been having nearly every single day. Under the strongly scent patch that looked ridiculous on his forehead, Noah nodded. “I know.”
“We’ve reached him. And he’s able to talk through other people, he’s just scared to. Which I get. But Noah, you don’t need to hurt yourself any further. You did your part and I really don’t want you to. You know that.”
“It goes beyond fear. He’s barely holding on right now, I can feel it even when we actually talk. It’s the only way.”
Andrew didn’t have a response to that. “I’ll be fine,” Noah said.
“Yeah.”
“Want to take a nap with me before we go?” Noah asked. “We have time.”
He sat up, peeling the patch off his head. “It’s too strong, God. But hang on to those, maybe they’ll be good for your ribs. Come on.”
Andrew took Noah’s outstretched hand and followed him into his bedroom, trying to ignore the feeling of impending doom.
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