Into the Forest [Extra]
Mar. 14th, 2009 09:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: Original
Summary: "You're... joking. You've gotta be joking - there's no way you think I'm gonna believe something like that."
Rating: T
Notes: Trying to distance it, so it's not all 'he' 'he' 'he'.
One to the past, one to the future. Heh.
Swearing again. Funny how the future ones keep on having swear words in them. *dry tone*
Genre: Mystery/Adventure
Word count: 850
Words so far: 3,122
Status: Work in Progress.
Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for further explanation. They went down when he didn't say anything more. What else could he say?
"You're... joking. You've gotta be joking - there's no way you think I'm gonna believe something like that."
Graham half felt like screaming, half felt like going to his room and not coming out. He'd hoped that Dean would have listened - okay, he had, but for him to also believe that he was telling the truth.
It was a stupid idea to tell him. A really stupid idea. What was he thinking, that he could tell someone what'd been done to him? Not that he knew exactly either, but he knew it in general terms. It was because it sounded like a plot straight out a book that made it sound so far-fetched. It was just... he didn't know. He'd needed to tell someone, and after the 'mild breakdown' at the café, he'd hoped Dean would have understood. Which, again, was a really stupid idea. Now Dean was going to think he was insane (he probably was, just a little bit - he obviously wasn't thinking straight at the moment anyway), he'd tell the others about his 'delusions', those scientists would probably hear about it somehow and then they'd come back for him. Maybe take the others with them too.
Fuck, why'd he do this? Obviously Dean wasn't going to believe him - he wouldn't believe him if he told him the story before it'd happened!
He'd have to go, run, before Dean said anything to anyone. Even if the scientists didn't catch up with him from this, he'd still end up having to talk to a counsellor or psychiatrist about his mental health and childhood.
He knew what had happened and he knew that it was real. He had solid proof that it happened - except he wouldn't be able to show how he could see things to them. And he wouldn't let them anywhere near his brain either, just to prove it. His sense of hearing would be dismissed as just being sensitive, not too out of the ordinary.
"Graham..."
"It doesn't matter," he said, quickly. "I mean - it must've been a dream, right? You get that, don't you, when you dream about something and you actually think it's real." That was plausible. He sounded like he was babbling -which he was- but he'd heard the others talk about it a couple of times so it wasn't unusual. It sounded more believable than being kidnapped and experimented on by scientists anyway.
Dean started at him doubtfully, then relaxed, smiling. "Done that once - didn't realise until a couple of days later." He stood up from the chair and stretched. "Anyway, sleep or do whatever it is you do when you have free time - see ya tomorrow?"
Graham smiled faintly back in return. "Yeah, should do." If it got passed off as a dream, then he wouldn't have to run. Still, it would be stupid if he wasn't wary over the next little while - not that he wasn't normally, but, after this, he realised how much he'd stopped watching for danger and gotten used to the routine of regular life. Maybe he should leave - leave the job anyway, find a job that was more isolated.
But maybe that was why he hadn't been found yet, because they were expecting him to hide, to stay away from human contact. But after all that time in there, he'd craved human contact, needed to talk to someone, even if that meant he was out in the open. It felt... good to hear things around him, even just the bustle of people going about in their life, and not have everyone's eyes on him, assessing him wherever he went. It still got a bit too much some days, when he was feeling especially careful for one reason or another, or it had just been a really long day.
So, he'd stay as a waiter, but he wouldn't blab what had happened to him again.
* * *
Dean closed the door of the flat as quietly as he could before he sighed, staring at the doorhandle. Well, that was damn weird. He didn't believe that that Graham had told him was a dream; dreams didn't last that long for a start, and it didn't seem right. He wasn't sure why, but from what he'd seen from Graham at work, in hindsight, it cleared up a few things. Graham had been like that since he'd first started working with them; it wasn't something he'd only been doing recently. And when you start backing away from people in white jackets, white as a sheet, you'd probably realise that it was a dream then, not some weeks after that. And dreams/nightmares didn't affect you that badly, not unless they had something to back them up. 'Course, he'd never had anything that was that bad so what did he know?
But still, if he didn't believe that it was a dream, then did he believe that Graham was an experiment?
Summary: "You're... joking. You've gotta be joking - there's no way you think I'm gonna believe something like that."
Rating: T
Notes: Trying to distance it, so it's not all 'he' 'he' 'he'.
One to the past, one to the future. Heh.
Swearing again. Funny how the future ones keep on having swear words in them. *dry tone*
Genre: Mystery/Adventure
Word count: 850
Words so far: 3,122
Status: Work in Progress.
Dean raised his eyebrows, waiting for further explanation. They went down when he didn't say anything more. What else could he say?
"You're... joking. You've gotta be joking - there's no way you think I'm gonna believe something like that."
Graham half felt like screaming, half felt like going to his room and not coming out. He'd hoped that Dean would have listened - okay, he had, but for him to also believe that he was telling the truth.
It was a stupid idea to tell him. A really stupid idea. What was he thinking, that he could tell someone what'd been done to him? Not that he knew exactly either, but he knew it in general terms. It was because it sounded like a plot straight out a book that made it sound so far-fetched. It was just... he didn't know. He'd needed to tell someone, and after the 'mild breakdown' at the café, he'd hoped Dean would have understood. Which, again, was a really stupid idea. Now Dean was going to think he was insane (he probably was, just a little bit - he obviously wasn't thinking straight at the moment anyway), he'd tell the others about his 'delusions', those scientists would probably hear about it somehow and then they'd come back for him. Maybe take the others with them too.
Fuck, why'd he do this? Obviously Dean wasn't going to believe him - he wouldn't believe him if he told him the story before it'd happened!
He'd have to go, run, before Dean said anything to anyone. Even if the scientists didn't catch up with him from this, he'd still end up having to talk to a counsellor or psychiatrist about his mental health and childhood.
He knew what had happened and he knew that it was real. He had solid proof that it happened - except he wouldn't be able to show how he could see things to them. And he wouldn't let them anywhere near his brain either, just to prove it. His sense of hearing would be dismissed as just being sensitive, not too out of the ordinary.
"Graham..."
"It doesn't matter," he said, quickly. "I mean - it must've been a dream, right? You get that, don't you, when you dream about something and you actually think it's real." That was plausible. He sounded like he was babbling -which he was- but he'd heard the others talk about it a couple of times so it wasn't unusual. It sounded more believable than being kidnapped and experimented on by scientists anyway.
Dean started at him doubtfully, then relaxed, smiling. "Done that once - didn't realise until a couple of days later." He stood up from the chair and stretched. "Anyway, sleep or do whatever it is you do when you have free time - see ya tomorrow?"
Graham smiled faintly back in return. "Yeah, should do." If it got passed off as a dream, then he wouldn't have to run. Still, it would be stupid if he wasn't wary over the next little while - not that he wasn't normally, but, after this, he realised how much he'd stopped watching for danger and gotten used to the routine of regular life. Maybe he should leave - leave the job anyway, find a job that was more isolated.
But maybe that was why he hadn't been found yet, because they were expecting him to hide, to stay away from human contact. But after all that time in there, he'd craved human contact, needed to talk to someone, even if that meant he was out in the open. It felt... good to hear things around him, even just the bustle of people going about in their life, and not have everyone's eyes on him, assessing him wherever he went. It still got a bit too much some days, when he was feeling especially careful for one reason or another, or it had just been a really long day.
So, he'd stay as a waiter, but he wouldn't blab what had happened to him again.
Dean closed the door of the flat as quietly as he could before he sighed, staring at the doorhandle. Well, that was damn weird. He didn't believe that that Graham had told him was a dream; dreams didn't last that long for a start, and it didn't seem right. He wasn't sure why, but from what he'd seen from Graham at work, in hindsight, it cleared up a few things. Graham had been like that since he'd first started working with them; it wasn't something he'd only been doing recently. And when you start backing away from people in white jackets, white as a sheet, you'd probably realise that it was a dream then, not some weeks after that. And dreams/nightmares didn't affect you that badly, not unless they had something to back them up. 'Course, he'd never had anything that was that bad so what did he know?
But still, if he didn't believe that it was a dream, then did he believe that Graham was an experiment?