Heyyy, what's happenin'? You've reached the voicemail of one very fine-lookin' man. Wanna chat? Fanboy all over my mad skillz? Declare your undying love for me? You know what to do. [BEEEEP]
[The touching surprises him, but doesn't bother him as much as it probably would another man. Travis has always been a tactile sort of person from the moment Wade met him-- always reaching out to pull Wade into a hug or touch his arm or lay a hand on his shoulder. Wade was the same way, always craving that sort of affection regardless of who it was from, and so they meshed well together.
This breach of personal space, however, seems much different. Travis doesn't lay a hand on his knee so much as he clutches, as if struggling to keep Wade-- or possibly himself-- anchored. It's pitiful, is what it is, and Wade feels his heart ache for his friend even as he plasters on a reassuring smile.]
Hey. [One hand reaches up to squeeze Travis's shoulder.] Don't you worry about me, okay? It'll take more than some weirdass dream monster to take me out. If cancer can't stop me, nothin' will. That's a promise. You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy.
[Wade's hand is warm and broad and real on his shoulder. His worries don't dissipate entirely, and yet... how's he supposed to stay so nervous when Wade is here, alive and well, promising this much to him?
And how the hell does he always know just what to say?]
Yeah... yeah. I don't know why I was so worried about it.
[It's like something has rolled over inside his chest, and it's all he can do to shove it down. Travis hones in on Wade's smile for two seconds too long, gnawing the inside of his own lower lip. A very stupid thought, a reckless, rash thought, crosses his mind and he opens his mouth, or perhaps parts his lips.
No... not here, and not now. He grins, lopsided, instead.]
Man. I really don't know why I was so worried. How'd you do that?
[The tension escapes in Travis's smile; in Wade's answering laugh. He slips his hand off Travis's shoulder, balling it into a fist to swipe at the other man's nose.]
It's called "common sense" there, bro. Plus it's probably finally sinkin' in that you won't ever be rid of me. I'm like a roach that way, y'know?
[His grin belies his self-deprecation-- he's relieved that Travis is feeling at least a little appeased.]
Heh. Hey, you never know. To roaches I might actually be considered handsome.
[...Ouch. That might've been a bit too self-deprecating. Wade gracefully changes tactics.]
Don't worry about wakin' me up, by the way. You might've saved me some trouble in the long run. You're not the only one who's been havin' nightmares, these days.
[Shit. He hadn't meant to let that slip out. Serves him right for trying to cover up a previous embarrassment.]
[Wade doesn't even bother to respond to Travis's compliments-- they both know he's lying. Wade can't remember the last time he could look in a mirror without wincing. He shrugs at Travis's next question, attempting to pass it off as nothing more than an offhanded remark.]
S'nothing I can't handle. Like your nightmares, y'know. Everybody has 'em, once in a while.
[He doesn't sound as convincing as he hopes he sounds.]
[Except that was probably the most honest statement he's made all morning. His mind is far from that, however, fixing instead on the nightmares. His voice is level, careful, when he responds.]
These weren't normal nightmares, Wade.
[a beat. Wade's unreadable, but he knows enough to know that he's not telling the truth.]
Are you sure? 'Cause if they were anything like mine... that's something that I'd wanna know.
[And for few seconds, Wade actually hesitates. He hates himself for it-- hates that he could even consider that his best friend, the best friend he's ever had, can't be trusted.]
Tell me somethin' first, Trav. How much do you remember from... before? Before you wound up back here, I mean. Before you had your fainting spell or whatever it is you said you had.
[Travis trails off, bowing his head to massage his temples: like he's trying to coax the memories out again.]
I was... seeing weird things, too, like what's been in my dreams the last few nights. The day before I passed out I got-- heh, I got really drunk the night before, 'cause this chick at the bar talked me into chugging down half the freakin' bar, so I don't remember much. Maybe that's what messed me up. But the day of, I was walking down the street, and I was pretty nervous about something, maybe.
[Again, it's all factual and correct in his mind... but explaining it sounds somehow wrong.]
There was this... [He raises his head once more.] This sense of doom, running down my spine. I remember that clearly-- like something was out to get me.
And then I woke up at home the morning after. There was a Yao nurse who explained it all to me, real nice. That was what happened, right?
[It's all wrong. The sheer wrongness of it is enough to send a set of chills down Wade's spine as well. He finds himself shaking his head at Travis's explanation.]
No. No, Trav. [His voice is gentle and quiet, as if talking to an invalid.] That's not what happened at all. I mean, maybe you were walking down the street when it happened, and maybe you did feel like something was out to get you, but...
[He stops; looks down at the floor, as if looking away from Travis would make the telling easier.]
I saw you that day, Trav. I saw them drag you out of your house. You were screaming something about being sick, about needing help... and then they clubbed you over the head with a rifle butt and tossed you in their van like a sack of potatoes. I didn't know where they were gonna take you... it all didn't make sense, and when I saw the way they were handling you like that, like you were just a common criminal, I almost--
[He stops short; presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to admit how close he came to committing assault or even murder for Travis's sake. His voice is even quieter when he speaks again, almost inaudible.]
No, that's-- I'd remember something like that, Wade. That can't be right...
[But he knows Wade, and as dangerous-- possibly rebellious-- as this talk sounds... he trusts him. About as much as Bishop, if not more. (And, of course, Bishop hasn't heard a word of this: it seems wrong, almost, like it's somehow less okay to involve him in this mess than to involve Wade and Jesse. At least they'd know what they were getting into.)
He's quiet, hands limp at his sides.]
It must've happened if you saw it, though. I didn't do anything, though-- I'm not a rebel. Sure, I skipped out on my vitamins for a couple days, but... [Travis turns his eyes to Wade, eyes wide and pleading: Wade has to have more answers than he does. He always knows what to say, after all.]
[It's the one question he's dreaded. The one question he doesn't have an answer to. He can't say what's happened to Travis. He can't say, because he doesn't even know what's happened to him. Wade sighs, runs his hand along the hairless expanse of his head.]
...I'm seeing things too, Trav. Rotting trees, dead things floating on a contaminated lake; people I've never met but still seem somehow familiar. A spiral cloud hovering in the sky whenever I look outside. Sometimes it has a face that screams-- I never hear anything, but I know it's screamin'. Sometimes it mouths a word: uzumaki, uzumaki, uzumaki. Just the same word over and over again.
[His body shivers with the recollection of it. He barks out a quiet laugh, casting his gaze sardonically over at Travis.]
So don't worry about what you're going through. 'Cause if all of that means you're crazy, then that makes me crazy too. We're a real pair.
[It's not funny at all. Wade, of all people, shouldn't have to deal with anything close to the same bullshit that Travis has, and yet... he could almost laugh.] Fuck. We are one hell of a pair. [Instead, he quietly tells Wade the rest of the story.]
I remember living somewhere before Haven. Way, way back, this shitty room, this miserable city... and somewhere else after that, fifty times worse. There was hardly any food, shelter wasn't always there, and all this awful shit kept happening-- so many people dying. Kids, even. I kept telling myself I was daydreaming, or just had a really sick imagination... but I know now. These are memories.
[Travis stares down into his empty palms again.]
I feel like I shouldn't be here. [He gestures around at their general surroundings.] Like all of this is wrong. It's like something deeper is here, and I've buried it: something deeper than what I can sense. A-and I can't help thinking that maybe Yao doesn't always want the best for us.
[Treason. Punishable by death. If he's a rebel, then at least Wade must be too, and that's enough for him. He casts his eyes upon Wade once more.]
[Wade and Travis are of the same mind. This is no longer some innocuous conversation about nightmares. This is bordering on seditious territory right here, and by the way Wade glances from side to side, watching for eavesdroppers, it's clear that he's growing increasingly uncomfortable with this discourse.]
How is that possible? [His voice is little more than a whisper.] Don't get me wrong-- I wanna believe you, but how can someone have two sets of memories? I mean, which one's the real one?
[Travis swallows the hard lump in his throat, his focus on Wade the only thing about him unwavering now. He's... actually listening to him, which he hadn't realized was going to be surprising until it was.]
Listen... I don't know why I told you all of this, or if all of this is stuff that we're-- you know, not supposed to know.
If you wanna pretend you never heard any of the stuff I just told you, I won't blame you. And I wouldn't ever spill anything you just told me. I'd let 'em take me out first.
[Wade shakes his head in disgust, as if Travis had told him that the sky has actually been a bright shade of magenta this whole time.]
If you want me to pretend this conversation never happened-- for appearance's sake-- I'm willing to do that. What we're talking about right now could get us arrested. Killed, maybe. But I'm not just gonna put it outta my mind like that. I'm not just gonna pretend you never told me all this just because it's convenient.
You're my best friend, Trav. You've gone through shit with me that nobody else has gone through. I'm probably never gonna be able to repay you for that. And that means I'm not gonna just sweep talks like this under the rug. This'll just be our little secret, okay? No one else has to know. They'll have to drag it outta me first.
[He utters a dark, cynical chuckle.] And I took torture resistance training, so they're gonna have to expend a lot of time and effort to get me to loosen my lips, believe you me.
[He was afraid that he would say that-- the idea of Wade being tortured, tortured for his sake, makes his skin crawl-- and yet Wade's good faith emboldens him. It's not exactly an easy feat, to throw your entire life and good standing in the eyes of Yao into the fire, but Wade... he hasn't even thought twice about it.
He's essentially offered to go against the whole damn world for him.
Travis feels heat prickling on his cheeks. It's probably one of the highest compliments that he's ever received.]
I believe you. [As unbelievable as what he's just promised sounds.] Dunno what spectacular good deeds I did in my last life to deserve that much, but I believe you. And it goes without saying that your secrets're safe with me too.
[Wade waves Travis's words away, shaking his head with another one of his laughs.]
Heh. Don't really give a damn what you did in your past life. S'what you did in the here and now that I really care about. You were there, Trav. You were with me when I thought I was alone, when I was at my worst. That's more'n I... than anyone can ask for, really. And you never asked for anything in return, even though you totally could have.
[A warm smile tugs at the edges of his mouth as he looks at his friend, his eyes softened with genuine affection.]
Helpin' you out in this is the least I can do, y'know? Yao might've helped me survive, but you were the one who helped me live. Keepin' your secrets from Yao is small potatoes compared to that, even if I get arrested for it. No regrets, Trav. That's the truth.
[Travis tries to smile, but he's fidgeting a little: Wade's words mean a lot, but all of these kind words all at the same time are more than he's used to hearing.
Wade's so frank about it all. Hell, he didn't really know that all of these things he'd done-- all things he didn't think twice about, either, just did because Wade was a friend and shouldn't have had to be alone-- really mattered that much. Funny, how the things he hadn't overtly pushed for, trying to prove himself to the world, to Yao, to anyone who'd look, didn't even matter in the end.]
All right, all right, quit buttering me up already.
[An act meant to diffuse all of those compliments. There's a pause, and Travis adds--] ...You're my best friend too, you know? I'd have to be a real piece of shit to not be there for you.
Well, you probably would've still been blissfully ignorant about all the joyful nuances of leukemia, for one thing.
[He's joking, of course. He's joking because he knows he's already said too much; because he sees in the way that Travis fidgets that he's growing uncomfortable with the steady stream of compliments. Jesus, Wilson-- you don't always have to spill your guts out of your mouth.
But also because that statement-- don't know what I'd do without you-- is so equally frank that he's not sure how to react to it either. Obviously Travis cares for him a great deal-- he wouldn't have spent all that time visiting him, buying him meals; tending to him while he was sick if he didn't-- but it surprises him sometimes, just how much he's invested in Wade's health and happiness. Wade can't remember anyone doing that for him before, not since his parents died.
He clears his throat. Time to change the subject.]
So. What's our next course of action, here? Should we form a secret club with coded handshakes and everything? The Coalition of Havenites Who May or May Not Be Crazy?
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no subject
This breach of personal space, however, seems much different. Travis doesn't lay a hand on his knee so much as he clutches, as if struggling to keep Wade-- or possibly himself-- anchored. It's pitiful, is what it is, and Wade feels his heart ache for his friend even as he plasters on a reassuring smile.]
Hey. [One hand reaches up to squeeze Travis's shoulder.] Don't you worry about me, okay? It'll take more than some weirdass dream monster to take me out. If cancer can't stop me, nothin' will. That's a promise. You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy.
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And how the hell does he always know just what to say?]
Yeah... yeah. I don't know why I was so worried about it.
[It's like something has rolled over inside his chest, and it's all he can do to shove it down. Travis hones in on Wade's smile for two seconds too long, gnawing the inside of his own lower lip. A very stupid thought, a reckless, rash thought, crosses his mind and he opens his mouth, or perhaps parts his lips.
No... not here, and not now. He grins, lopsided, instead.]
Man. I really don't know why I was so worried. How'd you do that?
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It's called "common sense" there, bro. Plus it's probably finally sinkin' in that you won't ever be rid of me. I'm like a roach that way, y'know?
[His grin belies his self-deprecation-- he's relieved that Travis is feeling at least a little appeased.]
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Hope I didn't wake you up too early, either. You sounded kinda half-asleep on the phone.
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[...Ouch. That might've been a bit too self-deprecating. Wade gracefully changes tactics.]
Don't worry about wakin' me up, by the way. You might've saved me some trouble in the long run. You're not the only one who's been havin' nightmares, these days.
[Shit. He hadn't meant to let that slip out. Serves him right for trying to cover up a previous embarrassment.]
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[ And that might've been a bit too obvious-- Travis takes the subject change in as much stride as he can.]
Hang on: nightmares? [Travis frowns, trying to pick out any hints in Wade's expression.] You didn't mention anything about those.
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S'nothing I can't handle. Like your nightmares, y'know. Everybody has 'em, once in a while.
[He doesn't sound as convincing as he hopes he sounds.]
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These weren't normal nightmares, Wade.
[a beat. Wade's unreadable, but he knows enough to know that he's not telling the truth.]
Are you sure? 'Cause if they were anything like mine... that's something that I'd wanna know.
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Tell me somethin' first, Trav. How much do you remember from... before? Before you wound up back here, I mean. Before you had your fainting spell or whatever it is you said you had.
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[Travis trails off, bowing his head to massage his temples: like he's trying to coax the memories out again.]
I was... seeing weird things, too, like what's been in my dreams the last few nights. The day before I passed out I got-- heh, I got really drunk the night before, 'cause this chick at the bar talked me into chugging down half the freakin' bar, so I don't remember much. Maybe that's what messed me up. But the day of, I was walking down the street, and I was pretty nervous about something, maybe.
[Again, it's all factual and correct in his mind... but explaining it sounds somehow wrong.]
There was this... [He raises his head once more.] This sense of doom, running down my spine. I remember that clearly-- like something was out to get me.
And then I woke up at home the morning after. There was a Yao nurse who explained it all to me, real nice. That was what happened, right?
no subject
No. No, Trav. [His voice is gentle and quiet, as if talking to an invalid.] That's not what happened at all. I mean, maybe you were walking down the street when it happened, and maybe you did feel like something was out to get you, but...
[He stops; looks down at the floor, as if looking away from Travis would make the telling easier.]
I saw you that day, Trav. I saw them drag you out of your house. You were screaming something about being sick, about needing help... and then they clubbed you over the head with a rifle butt and tossed you in their van like a sack of potatoes. I didn't know where they were gonna take you... it all didn't make sense, and when I saw the way they were handling you like that, like you were just a common criminal, I almost--
[He stops short; presses his lips tightly together, not wanting to admit how close he came to committing assault or even murder for Travis's sake. His voice is even quieter when he speaks again, almost inaudible.]
I thought you were never coming back.
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[But he knows Wade, and as dangerous-- possibly rebellious-- as this talk sounds... he trusts him. About as much as Bishop, if not more. (And, of course, Bishop hasn't heard a word of this: it seems wrong, almost, like it's somehow less okay to involve him in this mess than to involve Wade and Jesse. At least they'd know what they were getting into.)
He's quiet, hands limp at his sides.]
It must've happened if you saw it, though. I didn't do anything, though-- I'm not a rebel. Sure, I skipped out on my vitamins for a couple days, but... [Travis turns his eyes to Wade, eyes wide and pleading: Wade has to have more answers than he does. He always knows what to say, after all.]
Wade...
What the hell did they do to me?
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...I'm seeing things too, Trav. Rotting trees, dead things floating on a contaminated lake; people I've never met but still seem somehow familiar. A spiral cloud hovering in the sky whenever I look outside. Sometimes it has a face that screams-- I never hear anything, but I know it's screamin'. Sometimes it mouths a word: uzumaki, uzumaki, uzumaki. Just the same word over and over again.
[His body shivers with the recollection of it. He barks out a quiet laugh, casting his gaze sardonically over at Travis.]
So don't worry about what you're going through. 'Cause if all of that means you're crazy, then that makes me crazy too. We're a real pair.
no subject
I remember living somewhere before Haven. Way, way back, this shitty room, this miserable city... and somewhere else after that, fifty times worse. There was hardly any food, shelter wasn't always there, and all this awful shit kept happening-- so many people dying. Kids, even. I kept telling myself I was daydreaming, or just had a really sick imagination... but I know now. These are memories.
[Travis stares down into his empty palms again.]
I feel like I shouldn't be here. [He gestures around at their general surroundings.] Like all of this is wrong. It's like something deeper is here, and I've buried it: something deeper than what I can sense. A-and I can't help thinking that maybe Yao doesn't always want the best for us.
[Treason. Punishable by death. If he's a rebel, then at least Wade must be too, and that's enough for him. He casts his eyes upon Wade once more.]
Wade, I think something's going on here.
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How is that possible? [His voice is little more than a whisper.] Don't get me wrong-- I wanna believe you, but how can someone have two sets of memories? I mean, which one's the real one?
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[Travis swallows the hard lump in his throat, his focus on Wade the only thing about him unwavering now. He's... actually listening to him, which he hadn't realized was going to be surprising until it was.]
Listen... I don't know why I told you all of this, or if all of this is stuff that we're-- you know, not supposed to know.
If you wanna pretend you never heard any of the stuff I just told you, I won't blame you. And I wouldn't ever spill anything you just told me. I'd let 'em take me out first.
no subject
[Wade shakes his head in disgust, as if Travis had told him that the sky has actually been a bright shade of magenta this whole time.]
If you want me to pretend this conversation never happened-- for appearance's sake-- I'm willing to do that. What we're talking about right now could get us arrested. Killed, maybe. But I'm not just gonna put it outta my mind like that. I'm not just gonna pretend you never told me all this just because it's convenient.
You're my best friend, Trav. You've gone through shit with me that nobody else has gone through. I'm probably never gonna be able to repay you for that. And that means I'm not gonna just sweep talks like this under the rug. This'll just be our little secret, okay? No one else has to know. They'll have to drag it outta me first.
[He utters a dark, cynical chuckle.] And I took torture resistance training, so they're gonna have to expend a lot of time and effort to get me to loosen my lips, believe you me.
no subject
He's essentially offered to go against the whole damn world for him.
Travis feels heat prickling on his cheeks. It's probably one of the highest compliments that he's ever received.]
I believe you. [As unbelievable as what he's just promised sounds.] Dunno what spectacular good deeds I did in my last life to deserve that much, but I believe you. And it goes without saying that your secrets're safe with me too.
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Heh. Don't really give a damn what you did in your past life. S'what you did in the here and now that I really care about. You were there, Trav. You were with me when I thought I was alone, when I was at my worst. That's more'n I... than anyone can ask for, really. And you never asked for anything in return, even though you totally could have.
[A warm smile tugs at the edges of his mouth as he looks at his friend, his eyes softened with genuine affection.]
Helpin' you out in this is the least I can do, y'know? Yao might've helped me survive, but you were the one who helped me live. Keepin' your secrets from Yao is small potatoes compared to that, even if I get arrested for it. No regrets, Trav. That's the truth.
no subject
Wade's so frank about it all. Hell, he didn't really know that all of these things he'd done-- all things he didn't think twice about, either, just did because Wade was a friend and shouldn't have had to be alone-- really mattered that much. Funny, how the things he hadn't overtly pushed for, trying to prove himself to the world, to Yao, to anyone who'd look, didn't even matter in the end.]
All right, all right, quit buttering me up already.
[An act meant to diffuse all of those compliments. There's a pause, and Travis adds--] ...You're my best friend too, you know? I'd have to be a real piece of shit to not be there for you.
Don't know what I'd do without you, Wade.
no subject
[He's joking, of course. He's joking because he knows he's already said too much; because he sees in the way that Travis fidgets that he's growing uncomfortable with the steady stream of compliments. Jesus, Wilson-- you don't always have to spill your guts out of your mouth.
But also because that statement-- don't know what I'd do without you-- is so equally frank that he's not sure how to react to it either. Obviously Travis cares for him a great deal-- he wouldn't have spent all that time visiting him, buying him meals; tending to him while he was sick if he didn't-- but it surprises him sometimes, just how much he's invested in Wade's health and happiness. Wade can't remember anyone doing that for him before, not since his parents died.
He clears his throat. Time to change the subject.]
So. What's our next course of action, here? Should we form a secret club with coded handshakes and everything? The Coalition of Havenites Who May or May Not Be Crazy?