Chapter Text
It was Mendel who first presented the idea (Marvin preferred to call it a scheme), way back during one of Marvin’s session with the physiatrist.
Medel, when he first proposed the idea, had hoped it would help the lovers, 36 questions for them to answer together. Hoping to bring them closer. So Marvin brought them home and together, he and Whizzer sat down and answered the questions.
It was pouring. Absolute downpour. And if you thought gays and driving didn't mix, then you didn't want to see gays driving in the rain.
Whizzer clutched the steering wheel, windshield wipers frantically trying to wipe the sheet of rain away. He takes a hand off the wheel only to grab a cassette recorder from the seat beside him. He holds it up towards him. He sighs before quietly speaking into it.
“The date is Thursday, July 28, 2009, My name is…”
Whizzer hesitates breifly. Honesty. Right, this was about honesty.
“Micah Brown, and I have been lying to my boyfriend since the day I met him. And i am going on record here to finally set things right.”
Whizzer doesn't know what else to say. He is concentrated on the rain-slicked road in front of him. He spares a glance at the time from a watch situated on his wrist. He speaks again into the recorder.
“Well… the time is 6:43 and it seems have left the recorders charger at Denny’s… great. Well, I figure I have at least 30 minutes before it cuts out.”
Whizzer knows, he knows, he should remain positive, god forbid the universe decides to throw any negativity back at him, but the rain does not show signs of letting up, and he can barely read the passing signs.
“Which means I don't have very long to convince him, I guess”
Whizzer zones out a little after that, his voice sad. He stares out into the wet grayness, all muddled together. He tries not to let his gaze wander, as he sets the recorder, still recording, on the passenger seat beside him. The recorder slides downwards, and there it joins a manilla folder. The which he was trying not to let his gaze drift to.
Along with the folder and recorder and an assorted stack of papers, and plastic I.Ds. Held together by a single rubber band. They sit, a distracting sight for Whizzer, but he valued his life over his worries and thoughts, so he keeps his eyes on the road.
Suddenly his GPS chimes in, startling him. ‘Your destination is on the right’ the female voice chimes, Whizzer was too distracted, spaced out to notice he was coming upon his destination.
“Shit” he hisses as he slams his foot on the breaks. His tire skid. Cars swerve to avoid him, he’s panicking for sure, the radio is playing and nervously he sings to himself, making his own situation fitting lyrics.
“Oh, I'm gonna die out here…” It's hushed and meant for himself, but the recorder picks it up anyways. He manages to get himself onto a dirt driveway that winds inwards, leaving several angry drivers in his wake. “There is literally nothing out here” he continues on, sarcastically, but it calms his nerves slightly. His voice shakey. Then more confidently he speaks out almost bitterly, “Not even an A.M radio station... Jesus”
He finally pulls up to a house, it was certainly a way out from New York City… Whizzer supposed that Marvin didn't want to be found or bothered. Ha, well surprise, surprise Marvin. He pulls out his keys, turning his car off. He takes a shuddery breath for finally stepping out, not before gathering the contents of his passenger seat. “Made it in one piece” Hey says towards the recorder, but offhandedly.
“I can see, uh I think his family's summer home..? Kinda log cabin -esque, or whatever. I definitely get the appeal of it, I guess.”
He doesn't.
“Peaceful... Remote, great place to get some “me time”... particularly if you find out your boyfriend has, you know, been lying about who he is and refusing to acknowledge it..”
He accidentally slams his car door shut. Whizzer winces, he has immediately alerted Mavin, if he was there, that Whizzer was there.
“Oop! There goes the element of surprise hah…”
He jokes softly into the recorder, mostly to keep his own spirits up, he can feel regret creeping into his thoughts now. Well, no turning back now. He noticed though, a sound coming from inside the home.
“Though... It sounds like someone is… drilling... sawing...? Inside… so maybe he didn't hear me? Not that it matters!”
Whizzer finishes quickly, the sound seemed more like drilling as he gets closer to the house.
“It’s not like I'm springing a trap! Hear that future Micah? Not a trap! My mission is to salvage the most important relationship in my life… just gotta make it to the porch!”
He approaches the porch of the home, he can hear his own footsteps in the rain. Black dress shoes softly clacking on the now concert surface below him. He steps onto the wooden porch, wood creaking softly underneath his steps.
The drilling, which had since died down, started up again. Perhaps Mavin was aware of his presence and was choosing to ignore it. Whizzer worried for the state of whatever Marvin was supposed to be repairing or building, he did not trust the man with a power tool. Maybe though, in the two years apart, he had picked up some handyman skills. Doubtful, though in Whizzer’s mind.
“All’s left is to just... Do it..”
Whizzer hesitates, before finally stepping up to the door. He mumbles to himself again to just do it. He knocks, a stupid little rhythm into the door, but he knocks. The drilling stops. He waits. He hears footsteps approaching, but the door doesn't open. So he knocks again, rhythmically. Wearily he calls out,
“...Marvin?”
No response. Whizzer tries again, “I can hear you on the other side of the door…” Again nothing. Whizzer huffs, annoyed. “C’mon, you might as well open it!” He hears movement inside and he grows hopeful, but no action is made. “Or just leave me on the hook,” He replied to the door, taking on an annoyed stance, hands on his hips and all. It wilts after a moment though.
“Tough but fair… considering the circumstances.” He says, softer. Still nothing. Well, Whizzer decides to at least deliver his manilla folder, which looking at it now seemed more like an envelope. He crouches by the mail slot and starts to slip the folder through the mail slot.
“Well, look I'm slipping you something through your mail slot let me know when you've opened it-” The envelope is shoved back out the mail slot, onto the semi-dry porch. Whizzer feels his eye twitch a little, ‘so childish’. Yet he takes a deep breath and calms himself.
“Um.. okay... I'll just stare at these trees… I guess” He tries to keep his voice hopeful, but he sounds tired and sad.
Suddenly he hears buzzing in his ears before a sharp pain in his arm. Instinctly he slaps at it. “Mosquitoes! Fun!” He huffs exasperatly to no-one. He was not a woodsy person, hence why he lived in New York. “Okay well!” He says decidedly to the door, smoothing his pale shirt out.
“There are two possibilties here, either you are my boyfriend, Marvin, a gay Jewish man who usually resides in his fancy little home who sees his son on the weekends, or you are a stranger, in his expensive, childhood home.” Whizzer is smirking, though there is no one to see it. He’s certian it is evident in his voice though. There is still no response, so he continues on.
“In either event, it would be really nice for you to just open the door!” He waits. The buzzing returns, he huffs and smacks a few mosquitos away. His patience is thinning, he speaks again to the door in his face, annoyed.
“Okay! I’ll play your game! Alright? I'm not me…” His tone grows softer but he goes on. “And you’re not you .” He softly rests a hand on the door, feeling the painted wood grain beneath his fingertips.
Whizzer leans into the door, resting his forehead against it. It gives a soft thud when his forehead makes contact. He speaks, hoping his words reach Marvin.
“Well, whoever you are, on the otherside of this door, you share a lot in common with my lover, Marvin.” He words a soft and sorta sad, but determined, He lets his gaze move to the car parked closer to the house, He exhales softly, and continues on. He will get an answer.
“You have the same car, so maybe he sold it, I can't see someone buying it so maybe you stole it,” He takes a glance at the plate, its the same. “And didn't change the plates.”
There's a long pause. Whizzer can hear a slight movement, and he can imagine Marvin dragging a hand down his face, conflicted. The corners of his mouth can't help but quirk upwards for a brief moment.
“I drove like, 27 hours to get here, had to replace two tires during the storm.” He can’t help but joke quietly.
“I hear you there, I hear you listening,” He tone grows sad and hushed once again.
“You deserve to get to know the person you are trying your damnedest to let go…” Whizzer grows quiet. “Hear me out,” He pauses.
He whispers quietly, he's not sure Marvin will even hear it through the wooden door. “I know you care…” a long silence stretches after this. He can hear the person on the other side seemly make a movement towards the door and grows hopeful. He waits, but the door does not open. He grumbles lightheartedly, sadly, but lightly.
“There are mosquitoes everywhere, I think they're eating me alive…”
A few heartbeats pass before suddenly, the door opens. Whizzer stumbles slightly having been leaning on the door a mere moments before. He stares up at a tired, conflicted Marvin. A moment passes….
“I’m only letting you in so you don't get eaten alive.”