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Date Posted: 04:13:09 03/07/04 Sun
Author: silver
Author Host/IP: cvg-65-27-247-105.cinci.rr.com / 65.27.247.105
Subject: "The Longest Night" Chapter 4, "Deck the Halls with Raving Lunatics"

10 p.m.

"Deck the Halls with Raving Lunatics"

by: silver


silver's boot heels click-clacked out an impatient rhythm as she hurried along toward the address she'd been given. Her pace was fast due to annoyance - annoyance at having her evening with Legolas and Will Turner interrupted by an ill-timed phone call - and simple haste to get this over with and get back to the matter at hand. She never would have left them, anyway, if it hadn't been for qc's frantic phone call from the hospital saying that Doyle needed them. silver sighed. It had been a difficult decision, but she could never have left a friend in trouble just so she could stay at Kay Bee Toy store and have wild, monkey sex with two hot, absolutely fucktastic men.


Especially not if she could give the two hot, absolutely fucktastic men her hotel key, and was going to meet them back in her room at the hotel as soon as this was over. Which she had, and was.


So it was more haste than anything that had her hurrying along the streets of L.A. a little after ten p.m. She turned a corner and paused, consulting the directions she'd written on the back of her handy, pop-out map. Yep, qc had definitely said to take a left, here. Damnit.


Deciding that there was no help for it, silver started down the street, which was ink-black between the only two working street lamps. And what she could see within the weak circles of flickering light didn't exactly bolster her confidence.


As she walked, she kept her eyes open for any movement, from any direction. Trying to look casual, she slipped off the bow Legolas had given her and pulled one arrow from the quiver. She held it ready to aim and fire at a moment's notice, if necessary, as she walked down the street. She tried not to let her mind wander, but couldn't help remembering Legolas and Will's heroic offers to accompany her for her protection. She went all warm and fuzzy inside just remembering it, and the way Legolas had draped his own cape over her shoulders, for warmth and protection. Added to his bow and arrows, and Will's sword, she felt very formidable indeed, and sighed again...this time for a very different reason.


Trying to shake it off, silver skirted the shadows that reached out for her and hurried down the street to her last turn. She halted when she rounded the corner, blinking at the sight that befell her. qc hadn't said it was a mental hospital!


The Los Angeles home for the criminally insane took up one whole side of the street. It jutted up from its foundation like a mountain, and loomed over the neighboring buildings like a dark thunder cloud. Gulping, silver re-slung her bow and put away her arrow before hurrying to the door.


Inside, silver was met at the reception desk by a sour-faced woman in a spotlessly white nurse's outfit, who reluctantly directed her to an elevator at the end of the hall.


silver joined the man standing there, waiting for the elevator. Eyeing his white lab coat and stethoscope, she deduced he must be a doctor. As he was also a very attractive doctor, she smiled at him. He smiled back and held the elevator door for her when the car came. Absurdly pleased, silver stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor.


"Which floor?" she asked the doctor. Casually, she glanced at the ID badge he wore on the lapel of his coat. It proclaimed that the wearer was Doctor James Sumner.


He smiled charmingly at her. "Oh, I'll have whatever you're having."


A surprised giggle nearly escaped her, but she reigned it in and locked it down before she could embarrass herself.


"So, I've never seen you here before," Doctor Sumner said. "Have you just been admitted?"


"What?" silver replied, startled. She saw that his eyes went meaningfully to her cape and bow, and she laughed. "Oh, no, I'm not a resident. I'm here for a friend...I guess he must be sick."


"And you just wear a cape and adorn yourself in medieval weaponry when you go out for the evening?" His eyes were amused.


"Uh...well, yes. I guess I do." Self-consciously, silver tugged at the cape around her shoulders. "I suppose some people would find that pretty weird, huh?"


"Actually, I find it dangerously attractive," he contradicted. "Could I interest you in a late dinner? Or perhaps a joust? My shift's nearly over."


silver was tempted. He was a cute doctor, for Christ's sake! And he liked her in a cape! Perfect, really. And she didn't know how long Legolas and Will would be alive. But it just wasn't in her. "Sorry," she said. "I've actually got someone waiting for me.


Two someones, actually, she thought, but I don't need to over-share now, do I?


"Ah, pity," he said, his grin rueful. "It's difficult to find a date around here that's not stark raving mad."


On cue, the elevator doors opened on level six. Suddenly they were face to face with the throng of people who'd been waiting. The team consisted of several orderlies, a mostly naked man with glasses, and two more doctors...one male and one female. The nearly naked man's eyes widened when he saw the elevator's passengers. "That's him!" he cried, pointing a finger that shook with incredulous indignation at Doctor Sumner. "That's my patient! He locked me in the broom closet after stealing my clothes and badge!"


The orderlies rushed forward, grasping the "doctor" by the arms and hauling him out of the elevator. "Damnit Sumner, he could have made it out this time,” the female doctor said, gesturing with her clipboard for punctuation. “You've got to keep Patient Drake's medication regulated so this sort of thing doesn't keep happening!"


Drake offered up the same rueful smile he'd given silver only a few moments ago. "I think I would've made it this time, too, if I hadn't gotten distracted."


silver grimaced. "Sorry," she apologized.


Drake shrugged and grinned. "There's always next time." He was still smiling affably as they dragged him away.


silver shook herself. "Stay focused, dude!" she said. "Now, no more being attracted to insane people. What room did qc say Doyle was in?"


She started off down the hall until she hit room 666. Was that it? She peered in.


In the middle of the floor was a bed, and there was no other furniture in the room. Upon the bed sat a young woman methodically stuffing matchbox cars in her mouth before crunching down on them. Being made of hard plastic and metal, the toy cars remained fairly undamaged, but this did not appear to lessen the woman’s enjoyment in the act. She actually made “yum!” noises as she chewed a tire that had popped off one of the cars.


“Shouldn’t someone be making you stop doing that?” silver wondered, glancing around for a nurse.


“I love cheese,” the car cruncher confided.


“That’s…nice,” silver said. “Look, I’m terribly sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for my friend Doyle. Do you know what room he’s in?”


“Next door, I think.” The young woman responded so conversationally, that silver began to feel the situation was a little surreal. It was only heightened a moment later when the resident stood up on her bed, hospital gown flapping around her calves, and began miming Godzilla, or something.


Silver took a hard look at the woman. She reminded her of…someone.


Meh. She had too much to do, and too little time to do it in. She couldn’t sit here fooling around with this nutcase. She had her own nutcase to find. And then she could get back to Legolas and Will.


She backtracked out of room 666, and headed next door to room 667. Inside, she found qc conferring with a doctor. At least, he looked like a doctor. And she could only assume that the mound beneath the sheets on the hospital bed was Doyle. “What happened?” she asked qc. Then she turned to the doctor. “Can I see a picture ID, please?”


The doctor huffed, offended, but complied with her request and dug a wallet out of his back pocket. He flipped it open to reveal his driver’s license, which sported his name and a really bad picture. “If you’re quite satisfied,” the doctor said in an icy English accent, “it appears that young sir Doyle has suffered from some sort of psychotic episode.”


“He was fine one minute,” qc said, “and then the next he started having some kind of delusion. It all happened right after we got back from that circle of hell.”


“Riiiight,” silver said slowly, and then took hold of qc’s arm and drew her close before speaking softly near her ear. “Perhaps you shouldn’t say anything else about the circles of hell you’ve been to, while we’re here in a mental hospital, okay?”


qc shrugged, looking casual. “I just meant downtown,” she said, trying to pass it off. “This city sucks.”


“Quite,” the doctor said. “In returning to the case of your friend, he apparently suffered a vivid hallucination that was quite fanciful in nature. He acted like he was somewhere else entirely; he ceased being able to maneuver effectively in the real world, and couldn’t carry on an intelligent conversation. Indeed, what he said made absolutely no sense…much like Ozzy Osbourne.”


The doctor paused, and then walked over to the cart that had been wheeled in. It contained a television and a VCR. “I’d like you to see something,” he said, and pressed play.


A moment later the screen came to life with Doyle’s image. He sat at a table in a room, his eyes tied or handcuffed behind his back around the chair. He started speaking, but there was no sound.


“What’s the deal?” qc asked.


The doctor frowned, and fiddled with the controls. No combination of buttons that he pressed seemed to make the sound work, and he finally gave up. “Damnit,” he said. “Hold on, I’ll get the orderly who hooked up the system. It’s some new chap from Sweden, and he’s pretty all right with electronics.”


He walked out, and returned a moment later with another man. The newcomer had bleached hair, and quickly went to work on the television. He adjusted the speaker lovingly, stroking it and positioning it just so. Qc and silver exchanged a glance. Should they be watching this?


“Oi, would you like us to leave you alone with that?” qc asked.


The Swedish orderly ignored them. He adjusted and stroked, stroked and adjusted. When it finally met his satisfaction, he stepped back. “Should work now,” he said.


The doctor pressed play again. Doyle once again popped up on the screen, held in what looked like an interrogation room. Someone off screen was asking him questions. Doyle answered, but he was wild, fervent. There was an unholy gleam in his eyes.


“I’m telling you. Like I told you before! It was Kiera Knightly! She was in love with me!”


“Right, right,” came the voice from offscreen. “Except she uh…” there was a rustling of paper, as though someone was reading a report to quote directly, “She was actually under some kind of spell, and it was only this spell that made her think she wanted to sleep with you.”


“That’s right,” Doyle cried, exasperated. “I’ve told you all of this. She woke up after my wife and friends started beating up on her.”


“But records show that you are unmarried,” the voice said.


“She’s my board-wife,” Doyle explained.


“You’re wife is bored?”


Doyle actually banged his head on the desk in front of him. “No, she’s from a message board. We’re married there.”


“Uh-huh.”


It went on for some time. As the questions circled back to Doyle’s hallucination, he became more and more agitated. He got even more irritated when the voice wouldn’t let him have a drink from his flask. He begged, he pleaded, and he threatened, but the voice would not yield. He finally asked Doyle why he wanted the flask so badly, considering that it was empty. “It is…precious to me.” Thereafter he hunched down and said no more, his hands clasped in front of him as if he held his beloved flask.


The doctor shut down the equipment and turned back to qc and silver. “That’s all we managed to get out of him. He remains convinced that this Keira Knightly woman came to him with her mind on seduction, but that she was really under some sort of spell. He hallucinated a physical altercation, after which Ms. Knightly left. And though all of that troubles me, I’m more concerned with his flask obsession. Hallucinations themselves - as long as they are not harmful in nature - are not terribly unmanageable. However, they are often indicators of a more serious problem. His desperate need for the flask indicates to me an obsessive personality. The fact that he said he was willing to kill me to get it proves that he’s dangerous. I recommend keeping him here for observation.”


“Can’t we take him home?” qc asked.


“We can look after him,” silver added.


The doctor’s mouth set in a hard line of disapproval. “I consider that course of action thoroughly inadvisable. But, as there was no law broken, and there are people willing to take him into custody, I cannot stop you. I’ll let the nurse know to prepare the papers.”


He stalked out, and silver turned to qc. “Can you believe that guy?” she breathed.


“I can’t believe you had me say ‘Oi’,” qc said.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



Some time later, as qc was finishing the check-out forms, silver wandered the hall. She peeked into several rooms and saw a number of patients doing activities; others were just sitting there. But she could not hold back her surprise when she looked into room 679. “Bracken?! What the hell are you doing here?”


Inside the room, Bracken was pacing back and forth, much as she had been when silver saw her earlier this night, at the mall. Dimly, she remembered a disturbance down the promenade. “That was you?”


“That was me,” Bracken nodded grimly. She stopped pacing and faced silver directly, took a menacing step forward. “Well you’ve got me pigeon-holed quite effectively now, don’t you? You had this planned ever since your first chapter. This is my punishment for not writing a chapter, isn’t it? You throw me in a freaking mental asylum?!”


silver held up her hands in a gesture of innocence, palms out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is you’ve been acting crazy all night.”


“You want crazy?” Bracken asked, advancing another step. “I’ll show you crazy, my little parakeet of piracy.”



“What?” silver asked, retreating a step. “What? Look. Doyle’s here, too. Qc and I are getting him out of here. Just come with us; we’re headed back to Heather’s house.”


Bracken halted, calculated for a moment. “All right,” she said finally. “I’ll play your little game, Robin Hood.”


“Okay,” silver said. “Get dressed, and meet us at the elevator.” Then she fled.


She found herself back in Doyle’s room. The nurses had been in to dress him and get him ready to go, and he sat now on his bed, hunched over his hands. Stepping forward, silver grinned. “Whatcha got there, Doyle?”


His head shot up, his eyes burned on hers. His hands were empty, and he separated them to show her. “Nothing. Lost,” he said, his voice raspy. “They took it from us. Nasty doctorses. Tricksy! False! They took the Precious. We wants it, we needs it!”


His voice rose in desperation, and he clutched at silver, his fingers poking into her pockets, looking for his flask. Silver jumped back. “Hey, hey! I don’t have your freaking precious, so back off.”


She backed off a bit herself, retreating to the doorway; she eyed Doyle warily. He had regained his perch on the edge of his bed. He sat mumbling to himself, now. “Oh my boyo,” silver muttered, “You have seen ‘The Lord of the Rings’ too many times.”


Still, this wouldn’t do. She had to establish some trust, here, or else she’d never get him out of the hospital. “Listen, Doyle,” she said, stepping back to him. “I don’t have your flas - your Precious. But I think I can get it back for you.”


Doyle looked up again, and watched her suspiciously. She went on. “I just need you to come with me. We’re going to get out of here, and get back to Heather’s house. You remember Heather, don’t you?”


“Heather,” Doyle muttered, gazing down at the inexpensive hospital bedspread as if all of the answers lie there. “She’s be right backing,” he said.


Encouraged, silver took the final step to Doyle’s side and placed a hand on his arm. “No, she’s not away right now. She’s at her house, waiting for us.”


Cautiously, she helped Doyle stand, and then led him out of the room.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



Out by the elevator, qc waited for silver and Doyle. She had all of the paperwork they’d made her sign before she could leave with him, and Doyle’s possessions. Currently, she was holding the object of his desire…the flask. The hospital staff had warned her of Doyle’s present ‘Lord of the Rings’ infatuation, and suggested that she might be able to use the flask to keep him in line until they got back to a confined space. She looked down at it, cradled in her hands. She didn’t see what the big deal was, herself. It wasn’t a particularly fancy flask. It was just shiny, and made of a silver-colored metal. And yeah, it certainly caught the light well when she turned it this way and that. One could almost imagine…


“Well, here we are!” silver said brightly, leading Doyle. Qc quickly pocketed the flask, but not fast enough. Doyle’s eyes widened, and stayed fixed on the pocket.


“And I am here, too. Oh yes,” Bracken said. She stopped next to the little band and hummed, rocking on her heels.


“Bracken? What the hell are you doing here?” qc asked.


“Precisely what I would like to know,” Bracken replied easily, then glared daggers at silver.


Hunching her shoulders protectively, silver took Doyle’s arm. He insisted upon walking in a shuffling half-crouch, so she felt sort of like she was leading a chimpanzee around. “Let’s just get going, okay? I don’t think this place could be any weirder. Besides, we’re on a schedule, and it’s already 10:30.”


The ride down to the 1st floor was uneventful, other than Bracken glaring at the back of silver’s neck. They all walked as one to the entrance, and then - once outside - she made a break for it. Qc and silver and Doyle all stood there mutely as Bracken sprinted off, zig zagging all over the place as if avoiding gunfire. “No pigeon-holing!” she shrieked. Her maniacal laughter came floating back to them as she vanished down the street.


“Well then,” silver said. She had just started to turn in the direction they needed to go, when Doyle went berserk. He pounced on qc, ripping at her clothes and focusing with feverish, single-minded intensity on the pocket in which she had placed the flask. He screamed out a string of curses as he pawed at her. Qc tried to fight him off, but his strength was that of a madman…inhumanly strong. Silver turned back and threw herself into the fray, yanking Doyle off of qc and tossing him backwards. It didn’t stop him for long. He quickly scampered up on top of a stone planter next to the entrance of the hospital, turned, and leaped back onto qc, who tried to stagger away under his weight.


Silver once again hauled Doyle off of qc, and he turned on her immediately. They scuffled while qc recovered. By the time she got to her feet Doyle had pinned silver, and was squeezing his hands around her throat, still cursing. Qc bent, grabbed the handle of Will Turner’s sword, which had fallen from its scabbard in the fight. She pulled Doyle off of silver as silver pushed, and Doyle landed on his back, the point of the sword at his throat. “This is a sword,” she threatened. “I…don’t think you’ve ever met it before, but you know what it will do, don’t you?”


Doyle’s chest heaved with deep breaths as he calculated, then he let out a great, garbled, sobbing wail.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



Some time later, silver and qc led an extremely uncooperative Doyle through the streets of L.A. by way of a rope around his neck. He gibbered and moaned and pulled at the rope as if it burned him.


“It burns us!” he confirmed. “Take it off, please! Please!”


“Maybe we should,” qc debated.


“Sure,” silver said, “we take it off, and he tries to kill you again. You are obviously the Frodo of our little trio, and he’s never going to stop hounding you for the flask. You know how he can be when he gets one thought in his mind and never lets it go.”


When qc nodded, but still looked like she was about to cave, silver was exasperated. “Please don’t tell me how now that you see him like this, you pity him, and the only right thing to do is let him go?”


“Huh?” qc said. “No, I wasn’t thinking that at all. I was just thinking that with the racket he’s making, the police are sure to intercept us, and I don’t really think they’d approve of the way we’re transporting him.”


Silver chuckled. “You had me worried for a second there. Thought you’d gone soft.”


Qc snorted. Then she stopped and looked around, jerking on Doyle’s leash to make him shut up for a minute. “This is as far as I know,” she said. “we came a different way when we went to the hospital.”


“S’okay,” silver said, reaching in her pocket. “I’ve got my map here…somewhere…”


But several moment’s worth of frantic searching proved otherwise. “Damnit!” silver bit out, “I must have dropped it when Doyle was trying to strangle me or something.”


Qc was looking oddly at Doyle. “I’ll bet he knows the way,” she said.


“Look,” silver said, “we can just retrace our steps and find my map.”


“It could have blown away by now, for all we know, or gotten pissed on by some random homeless person. We can’t take the time to find out. It’s nearly quarter ‘til eleven, now.”


Silver bit her lip, recognizing the truth when she heard it. She watched as qc approached Doyle, who was huddled on the ground, looking pitiful with the rope around his neck. “You used to be like us, didn’t you?” she said. Doyle didn’t meet her eyes, and didn’t answer. “Heather told me once,” qc went on, “that you used to be called ‘Dennis’.”


Doyle looked up, his eyes wide with shock. “What did you call me?”


“Dennis,” qc repeated. “That was your name once, wasn’t it? Now listen, we’ll take the nasty burning rope off of you if you agree to take us back to Heather’s house.”


“We swears!” Doyle said enthusiastically, his arms spread open in a gesture of supplication. “We swears to do whatever the Master wants.”


Silver sneered. “There’s nothing you could say to make us trust you.”


“We swears!” Doyle said again, looking around for inspiration about what to swear on. One could almost see the lightbulb go on over his head. “We swears on the Precious!”


“Uh,” qc looked to silver for help.


“The flask is treacherous,” silver prompted, amused as qc repeated her words. “It will hold you to your word.”


“We swears!” Doyle said a third time.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



“I’m tired,” qc complained. “We’ve been traveling forever.”


“Dude,” silver said, “we’ve only been walking for like, three minutes.”


“Then why do I feel so drained?” qc asked. Indeed, she did look drained of energy. She’d gone a pasty white, and her hair hung limply, plastered to her forehead. They were both caked in dirt and grime, and had lost half their clothing. Qc looked at silver imploringly. “Do you have anything to eat? I had a Milo this morning, but nothing since.”


“Sure,” silver said, and took a banana from her knapsack, passing it over to qc.


“What about you?” qc asked, holding the banana.


“Oh, I’m not really hungry,” silver lied badly.


Qc could tell. “silver,” she said, chiding.


“All right,” silver admitted, “it’s just that we don’t have much. I’m on that whole self-improvement, diet kick, so there’s not much food. And what there is, is bland and very low in calories. But you go ahead and eat that, Mr. Qc. I’ve rationed it; we should have enough,” she said with determination as qc accepted this arrangement and dug in to the banana ravenously.


“Enough for what?” qc asked around a mouthful of squishy banana.


As if it were obvious, silver said “For the journey home.”


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



The journey seemed endless. Street after street, block after block, they continued on and qc flagged with each step. She looked at silver enviously. “How come you still look so energized?”


Briefly, silver told qc about her invigorating session at Kay Bee Toys. Qc perked up, checking her watch. “Maybe when we get Dennis to Heather’s house, I’ll have time to swing by the store for a few toys of my own, eh?”


Silver checked her own watch. “I don’t know, man. It’s 10:53. We’ve only got seven minutes to get to Heather’s house. And who knows if Stinker up there is even leading us in the right direction?”


“Why do you do that?” qc demanded.


“Do what?” silver was baffled.


“Run him down all the time. You can’t begin to imagine what the flask does to people.”


“Oh good grief,” silver said. “I think you’re buying a little too heavily into his delusion, qc. And make no mistake about his loyalty…he’d kill you for the flask. You can’t trust him.”


“We can’t find the way to Heather’s house without him,” qc countered.


“We could call 411,” silver muttered. “Or stop in a bloody gas station and ask for directions. Or just take a cab. This is L.A., you know. They do have cabs here.”


Pretending not to have heard, qc said more softly, “I need you on my side.”


“I’m on your side, Mr….uh, qc,” silver said.


“I know, silver. I know. But for right now, we’ve got to trust him. Come on, Dennis.” qc held out her hand and Doyle took it, shooting an evil grin over his shoulder at silver as he allowed himself to be led away. Silver shook her head at the foolishness of trusting him, but followed.


About thirty seconds later they stood at the base of a rocky incline. “I don’t remember this being anywhere around Heather’s house,” silver said doubtfully, measuring the climb.


“It’s a secret way,” Doyle rasped, “the only safe way. Come on, sillies, we must climb!” With that said, he began scampering up the rocks, leaving qc and silver no choice but to follow or forever be lost in this strange land.


Qc was really feeling the effects of the flask. Every moment she battled with herself not to pull it out and look at it. She could feel the weight of it, heavy and hot in her pocket. It spoke in her mind, telling her to pull it out and drink. She fought the urge, but it taxed her. She had little strength for the climb, and more often than not had to depend upon Doyle to pull her up to the next outcropping. At one such struggle, she was so focused on hanging on and pulling herself up that she did not see Doyle’s eyes widen, his pupils shrink to mere pinpricks, when he saw the mouth of his flask peeking out from qc’s pocket. He drew back momentarily, overwhelmed at being confronted with the object of his desire. Then, tempted beyond all reason, he began to lean forward, reaching out his hand for the flask.


Below them, silver saw Doyle’s murderous intent and - though she was holding on to a precarious position with one hand - she drew her sword. “Get away from her, you filth!” she shouted. She struggled to climb higher, to come to qc’s aid against the foul creature who would slay her to get what he wanted. But Doyle was clever, yet, and silver’s voice had broken the brief spell of the flask. He would need to be tricky.


He reached out again, but this time grabbed hold of qc’s arm and hauled her up to the outcropping, where she dropped heavily to rest. She was half out of her mind with fatigue and thoughts of the flask. “Why does she hate poor Dennis so much?” Doyle cried melodramatically, for qc’s benefit. “What has Dennis ever done to her?”


Ignoring silver, who was still struggling to reach the top of the outcropping, Doyle crouched low beside qc, where she lay panting on the stone, and ran soothing fingers along her back. “Master carries a heavy burden,” he hissed, in what he imagined was a comforting tone. “A heavy burden. Dennis knows. Fat hobbit…er, fat girl cannot know.”


Doyle leaned closer, whispering in qc’s ear to plant the seeds of mistrust. “Soon, she will ask you for it. You will see…the fat one will try to take it from you.”


In primitive reaction to the threat, though the haze, qc clutched suddenly at the pocket that contained the flask. She looked back with sudden suspicion over her shoulder at silver, who had finally surmounted the rocky ledge.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



They decided to take a brief break. Qc collapsed at the edge of the outcropping, drained of energy and will. Silver watched Doyle for a bit, wary of his plots, before dropping off into a fitful doze herself. Once he was sure she was out, Doyle opened his eyes and looked around for a way to incriminate her. He crept over to the knapsack she kept next to her as she slept. He opened the flap and rustled around inside before coming up with two bananas. Making an expression of distaste, he opened one and mashed some banana into silver’s cloak, then tossed it, the peel, and the other banana over the side of the cliff. He was just dusting his hands when silver woke and speared him with a suspicious glare. “What are you up to, sneaking around?”


Doyle blinked, working up some righteous indignation. “Sneaking? Sneaking! Oh that’s nice, that’s very nice. Fat girl is always so polite.”


“Hey,” silver protested, “I’m on a diet.”


“Dennis shows them the secret way, and they say ‘sneaking’!” Doyle continued to rant.


“Okay, okay,” silver said, trying to shut him up. “Still, what were you doing over here?” She looked around, trying to see what he’d been up to.


Doyle hunched his shoulders and looked up at her petulantly. “Sneaking,” he hissed.


“Fine, have it your way,” silver grumbled, and then crossed the single step to qc. She knelt down next to her and nudged her shoulder. “Sorry to wake you Mr. Qc, but we’ve got to be getting along, now. It’s five ‘til eleven.”


Qc looked wasted. She lifted her head groggily from the hard, sheer face of rock and sat up. “I feel wasted,” she confirmed.


“You just need some food,” silver assured her, and picked up her knapsack. She rifled through it for a moment, her movements growing desperate. “It’s gone!” she cried.


“What?” qc asked.


“The food. The bananas. They’re gone!”


Alarmed now, qc stood up. “But that’s all we had left.”


Silver looked around frantically, then her gaze fell upon Doyle, crouching there rubbing a hand across his head like he was as baffled as they were. “He took it!” silver shouted, pointing an indignant finger.


Doyle made his eyes widen in shock, plastering an innocent, persecuted expression on his face. “I don’t want your nasty bananas!”


qc's eyes narrowed. "He doesn't eat it," she said. "You know he only eats pizza."


Doyle scampered over to qc, playing up to her. “I’ve seen her, the fat one…always stuffing her face. She ate them!”


When qc looked to silver, wounded, silver cried “That’s not true!” Tears were building in her eyes as she came forward to kick at Doyle. “You filthy little thief. What did you do with them?” She punched him several times before qc was able to separate them.


“Stop it!” qc commanded, and then the power of the flask combined with her hunger and fatigue, and she dropped to the rock beneath them.


Instantly silver was at her side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to go so far.”


“I’m so weak,” qc gasped.


“I know,” silver said. “It’s him. It’s this place. It’s that thing in your pocket."


Qc’s expression sharpened at silver’s words and she looked up to regard her friend with suspicion. Her manic gaze focused on silver's lips as she said she could carry it for a little while, to help.


qc shot to her feet. "Stay away from me!" she cried, her hand curled protectively over the flask in her pocket.


"I don't want to keep it!" silver promised, "I just want to help. I could share the load."


The words slurred and slowed, and took on monumental importance. "No, silver," qc said calmly, having recovered from her split-second panic at the thought of losing the flask. "you can't help me any more."


"You don't mean that!" silver cried, the tears beginning to spill out onto her grimy cheeks. "He's poisoned you against me!"


qc's voice lacked inflection, but it was not unkind. "Go home, silver." Saying nothing more, she turned and started up the rock face with Doyle. Neither looked back. Left alone, silver collapsed crying.


~ * ~ * ~ * ~



It was 10:59 p.m. when silver caught up with her friend. qc was lying on the sidewalk outside Heather's house. silver went to her, turning her over and cradling her in her arms. "I'm sorry, silver," qc said, not even h aving enough strength to open her eyes. "So sorry."


"Hush now, Mr. qc," silver said. "It wasn't your fault. Doyle was playin' both of us. I found the bananas lower on the ledge; he must've tossed 'em over." She paused for a moment, looking around. "What did happen to Doyle?"


"Well," qc said, "he led me to the top of the rock cliff, and into this tunnel. There, I was set upon by Goatman. It was Doyle's insidious plot that Goatman kill and eat me, but I think they both forgot my reputation with goats. I quickly bested him, and then hoisted myself out of the tunnel to find myself up on the street, there. Moment's later, Doyle attacked me. I threw him off in self defense, and he fell down a manhole in the street that was missing the cover. He's gone. Then I climbed up here."


"Wow," silver said, impressed. "That's a lot to have happened in four minutes."


"Why do you think I summarized?" qc asked.


silver saw that qc was fading away, and tried to engage her attention. "Do you remember all of the great chats we used to have at the Sanctuary, qc?"


qc's eyes were open now, but they focused unblinking on some sight that silver couldn't see. "No silver, I can't recall the taste of tea while chatting, nor the sound of the chat frog ribbit, or the feel of the keys beneath my fingers. I'm naked in the dark, and there is no veil between me, and the evil of the flask!"


"Then let us be done with it!" silver cried, standing. "Come on, Mr. qc. I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you!"


With that said, she hefted qc up onto her shoulders and staggered up the hill toward Heather's house as sweeping, climactic music piped in from somewhere.


"Look Mr. qc," silver said a moment later. "We're almost there." The doorway loomed before them, beckoning. But above them on the awning of the porch, unseen, Doyle crept! He waited, watched, and then sprang.


His tackle took both silver and qc down. They all tumbled to the ground, and Doyle was on qc like a flash. Infused with new energy, qc tried to crawl blindly away from the threat. Doyle clutched at her legs, trying to crawl up and take the flask away from her. Behind him, silver picked up a garden gnome from beside her and flung it at Doyle. It struck him in the head, and he fell off of qc. silver pounced on him, letting fly all of the punches she'd refrained from giving him while he was under qc's protection. She jabbed, he scratched. She punched, he throttled. Finally, silver yanked him up against the mailbox. He slammed against it, hard, and then sank to the ground. silver looked up to see qc running up the sidewalk to the porch again. "qc!" she shouted, "wait!"


silver ran up the sidewalk herself, and stopped when her way was obscurred by some sort of mist or smoke. Wait, she thought suddenly. This is L.A. It's smog. She peered through it, calling qc's name.


At the very end of the sidewalk, qc stood facing away from her, her hand outstretched. She turned her head back over her shoulder. "I'm here, silver."


silver saw that it was the flask qc held in her hand, and that it was stretched out over an empty garbage can that stood next to the porch. "Just throw it in!" she cried, afraid when qc hesitated. "What are you waiting for?"


qc stood silently for several moments, her hand outstretched. But she just couldn't seem to make herself let go of the flask. It spoke to her, whispered promises in her head. Finally, she pulled it back to her and turned around. She looked at silver from beneath her eyebrows, giving her face an evil, calculating look. "The flask is mine," she declared, and then lifted it to her lips.


"No!" silver nearly whispered, her face a mask of despair. Behind her shoulder, Doyle rose, holding a rock from the garden. He clipped her on the back of the head with it, and she went down. He ran forward and pounced on qc. They scuffled, staggering around on the porch, until qc finally flipped Doyle. He tumbled over her shoulder, grasping the flask as he fell. A blissful expression crossed his face as he hugged the flask to him, even as he fell into the open garbage can.


At the last moment, he seemed to realize what was happening and he lifted his hand up, trying to save the flask, his precious, from his fate, but it was not to be; it swallowed them both.


At the base of the stairs to the porch, silver came to. She shook her head to clear it, then stood and made her way to qc. Her friend looked jubilant. Color had returned to her face. "It's over!" she cried. "It's done."


"Yes, Mr. qc," silver acknowledged, "It's over now."


Turning as one, they went inside.





-fin-


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