Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was an odd feeling. Being so in the dark when he was so used to knowing everything. Although he supposed he had never truly known everything. He knew far from what he thought he had. Ever since the first moment he realized that, it had made him feel off balance. Feel as though he was much, much further behind the curve than he had thought. He likely was, too many years spent thinking he understood it all when he truly knew nothing. He had to change that. Had to learn something. Had to figure it all out. Had to regain a position that he could feel confident in.

That would begin with figuring out just what he had done before this point, which… was something he couldn’t remember. That worried him. He had always remembered times he had been active, every loop, no matter what, and there were no signs that anything was incorrect with Shaun knowing of him before. From everything he could gather, it had been him. 

And he had done something terrible. Whether that was beyond the norm… he wasn’t sure. It isn’t like he hasn’t done terrible things before. But… it was odd. Michael had always taken the blame. Shaun had never believed him. He looked at her, studying her expression as she drove. She didn’t know it was him. She had no way of knowing. He always played his-

“Patrick.” She said, stopping his train of thought dead. “If you’re trying to act like him, it isn’t working. I know him too well.”

“What gave it away?” Patrick asked, leaning back in his seat now, posture corrected from his prior slouch. She glanced at him, frowning. “Oh, don’t give me that look.”

“I’ll give you whatever look I damn well please.” She stated flatly, lips drawing into a fine line. There’s a moment of silence between them, Patrick still studying her as she shifts her gaze to the road. As they reach a stop at an intersection, she looks at him more directly. “You don’t slouch the same.”

“I don’t slouch the same? Really?” He says, laughing. “Thought I had that nailed.”

“It’s your eyes too. Their bright in a way… in a way that’s different from his. It’s not that he… lacks something. His eyes aren’t dull but you… somethings different.” Shaun purses her lips, thinking. “Mischief. You’ve got mischief in your eyes. Like you want to pull something.”

“Well, I can tell you with some certainty I don’t want to pull anything,” Patrick states, and it’s her turn to laugh.

“Sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” She mutters, rounding a corner. “You’ve spent the what? Last… sixteen or so years making his life hell and I’m just supposed to believe it stops now?”

“Well, I don’t even remember the last sixteen years, so if anything would stop anything, I’d say it would be that,” Patrick responded, offering a small grin as Shaun just stared at him for a moment. “The last thing I remember before about a week ago… is something you wouldn’t even know.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the queen of England,” Shaun replied dryly, rolling her eyes. Patrick doesn’t respond, glancing away as he instinctively picks at his face, looking for blood. There’s a beat of silence between them. “You’re… serious.”

“Deadly.” He replies, continuing to pick. “If I wasn’t, why would I bother bringing it up?”

“I don’t know, garnering sympathy? I know Michael, I don’t know you. I… I don’t know what you want from us. I don’t know what you want from him. All I know is… you’re a shitty fucking person and you’ve been ruining his life, and we don’t know why.” Shaun says, gritting her teeth.

“I’m surprised,” Patrick says after a moment.

“By what?”

“Usually you don’t act like I exist. Sure, I don’t like the acknowledgement the way it is necessarily, but… it’s different to be acknowledged at all.” Patrick says quietly, his expression changing for a moment. Shaun looks at him, before quickly looking away.

“You’ve been around since we were kids,” Shaun responded. “Hard not to acknowledge you.”

“Usually you do a pretty good job of not acknowledging,” Patrick said with a shrug. “You like to ignore a lot of things, usually. I think this is a good change of pace. Partially for my own sake, but… you seem happier.”

“I don’t get you.” Shaun sighed. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, so if you could be a little less cryptic that’d be nice.”

“I’ll be honest Shaun. We’ve done this all before. Not… not like this, but… similar. A little to the left. Dozens of times, always shifting, and I’m not going to lie most of the time you are miserable, and you live a whole life of misery before dying a miserable death at the hands of something or other.” Patrick says with a handwave. “But this time- I don’t know what’s different, well- I know some of what’s different, but… I don’t know what made it different. I want to figure it out.”

“Alright. And, hypothetically if I believed you and didn’t think you were the crazy… thing possessing my brother, what’s different? Why do you care?”

“You figured it out a lot sooner, I’m guessing. I’m glad. It’s nice to see you happy. It’s usually a lot rarer, and that’s something I always regret.” Patrick said, and Shaun… paused. “When did it click? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“When I was fifteen.” She responds quietly. “My friend, Stormy she-”

“Sorry-” Patrick interrupted. “ Your friend Stormy? Not Michaels?”

“Why would she be Michael's friend?” Shaun asked after a moment. “They’ve never even met. You should know that.”

“Amnesia of some kind, remember? Deadly serious amnesia.” Patrick said, to which Shaun rolled her eyes once more. “And it’s different. Very different. So much is different.”

“What else?”

“What?”

“What else is different?” Shaun asks, locking eyes with him.

“Well. usually you like me a lot less.” Patrick answered with a sly grin.

“That’s possible? Damn. You must be a real piece of work in this fantasy world of yours.” Shaun said with a laugh.

“You wound me,” Patrick responded, forgetting for a moment that they weren’t close here. Forgetting that his jokes weren’t going to land. Forgetting that she likely hated- He stopped his train of thought. She had laughed. “Well. Usually, you don’t laugh at my jokes either.”

“You’re funnier than I remember,” Shaun answered. “Marginally.”

“I’ll take marginally funny. Add it to my resume.” Patrick added, and it was clear she was trying not to laugh now. He couldn’t help but grin. “We don’t usually get along so swimmingly.”

“You ruined my brother's life. I… but I knew you, once, before that. And you were a friend then.” Shaun said. “I hate your fucking guts, but… I don’t know. Old habits die hard, I guess. You’re familiar but… different.”

“What happened?” Patrick asks after a moment. “What… what was it that sent him away?”

“Why should I tell you? For all I know you just… want to rub it in. I’m being friendly. I’m being cordial. That’s because I’m polite and because I don’t know what you’ll do if I don’t play nice.” Shaun answers. “So you can figure it out yourself. Because If you don’t know, I’m not going to be the one to tell you.”

“Fair enough,” Patrick says, and Shaun seems almost surprised. “I do have one more question. Then I’ll leave you be.”

“What is it?”

“Last week. Why didn’t you tell him?”

Shaun is quiet for what feels like forever. He can’t tell if she’s just thinking, or if she’s giving him the silent treatment. But then she answers, and… it’s an answer Patrick doesn’t entirely buy. “Because he’s got enough on his plate. He doesn’t need to worry about you too.”

“Alright,” Patrick says with a small smile. “I’m done with pestering you.”

Michael blinks then, bleary-eyed, his hands quickly moving to rub them as though awakening from a deep sleep. “When did I fall asleep..?”

“A while ago. I didn’t keep track. Figured you needed the rest if you went out so quickly.” Shaun replied. “I’m glad you’re up now. The ride was getting lonely.”

“I don’t know if I’ll make for good conversation. I’m feeling… fuzzy.” Michael answers, blinking quietly. 

“That’s alright,” Shaun responds. “I’m just happy you’re around.”

“Is everything alright?” Michael asks after a moment. “You’re… acting weird.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just… got lost in some thought was all.” Shaun answers. “We’ll be home soon. You’re sure you don’t mind my roommate being there, right? If you do we can figure something out.”

“Yeah, yeah of course it’ll be fine,” Michael responded. “You said her name was Stormy, right?”

“Yeah. I think you two’ll get along. You’re… you’re both similar. I think you’ll find something to talk about.” Shaun replied, pulling onto their street.

Chapter Text

The days passed without any hint of anything going wrong. The man wasn’t around. Patrick kept himself quiet, simply observing and trying to gather as much knowledge as he could. But… there wasn’t anything. No sign of what he had done in the past, no sign of anything happening, truly nothing. It was frustrating. Infuriating. He was getting nothing .

But he couldn’t get anything if he asked. Shaun wouldn’t answer any questions when he had cropped up, he doubted that had changed. So, ultimately, the only way he could get that information would be to go to a different source. That source would be Michael. He didn’t speak to him immediately, giving him a little more time to settle, but late one night… he spoke up.

“Michael.” That was all he said initially, his dialogue internal. The others eyes shot open, quickly sitting up and looking around in the dark room. He… stopped, wondering if he had imagined it, but remained in the same position regardless. “Michael. We need to talk.”

He grows tense again, and glances around again, his heart starting to race. “Hello?”

“You remember me, don’t you?” He asks, and he feels Michael’s chest tighten. He doesn’t answer, opting instead to tentatively nod. “Good. We have a lot to talk about.”

“You’re not real,” Michael responds quietly. “I know you’re not real. You’re just- something I imagined. You’re not real and I’m going to go back to sleep.”

“If I wasn’t real you wouldn’t need to assure yourself so much,” Patrick responded. Michael drew in a sharp breath, quickly laying down and screwing his eyes shut. “Michael, I need you to talk to me.”

“You’re not real. I need my dosage upped. That’s all. It’s been… it’s been years, I just need that change. You’re not real.” Michael mutters to himself. “I can’t go back. I can’t.”

“You’re not going to go back,” Patrick says, but Michael has fallen entirely silent. Nothing gets any further response out of him. Patrick is… puzzled. There has never been a cycle where Michael has been so insistent that he isn’t real. Especially not one where Shaun acknowledges his existence. Patrick pauses, thinking, and in a snap decision takes control. 

He moves quietly through the house, navigating towards Shaun’s room. He needs some answers, and he won’t be getting them from Michael. Not anytime soon, at least. But… his trip is interrupted as Stormy practically runs into him. 

“Oh! Sorry.” She says with a light laugh. “I didn’t see you there in the dark.”

“No need to apologize. I should’ve been more obvious than creeping around in the dark.” He responds, and for a moment there’s a flash of some sort of look like she’s puzzling something out. But it doesn’t last wrong, and he wonders if it’s a trick of the dark. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty typical. I guess it’s the same for you?” She asks, and Patrick answers with a nod. She sighs. “Shaun said that you’re a bit of a night owl.”

“Did she talk about me a lot?” Patrick asked.

“Oh yeah, all the time. She’d always have a story to share about you.” Stormy said with another light laugh. “You were like… the person she talked about the most.”

Another difference. In other cycles, Shaun had been less than eager to discuss Michael. She feared what other people would think far too deeply.

“Well… that’s nice to hear,” Patrick answers, flashing a smile. “She’d be asleep now, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah. She usually falls asleep early. If you need someone to chill with I’m going to be up for a bit. I’m a bit too paranoid to sleep.” Stormy says, pausing for a moment. “Did she… tell you much about me?”

“Not… a lot of detail. But it’s clear you two are close.” Patrick answers honestly. Stormy glances away for a moment. “I know how the night paranoia is. Always the worst when it’s dark out.”

“Yeah. I always keep a light on.” Stormy answered and began to make her way towards the living room. Patrick supposed that a conversation with Shaun could wait for now. “I’m a bit… scared of the dark honestly. It’s nice to have someone else up this late. Makes me feel less like I need to turn on every light in the house.”

“Similar to Shaun. She’s never liked the dark.” Patrick hummed. 

“Really? She’s… never mentioned that.” Stormy says. The two of them sit down on opposite ends of the couch. “She can be… I don’t know, cagey sometimes?”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.” Patrick said. They fell into a silence, Stormy’s eyes drifting towards the window, where they eventually locked. Patrick turned to look, but… as soon as he did, she looked away. “Was there something out there?”

“No, I just- well. I thought I might’ve seen someone.” Stormy answered, hands folded in her lap. “It was nothing.”

“I can go look if there’s nothing out there. See what it could be.” Patrick stated, standing from the couch, but Stormy shot forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down. “Did you see something?”

“No, I just- It’s better if you don’t go out there,” Stormy said, biting her lip. “You just… never know what’s out there.”

“Tall and faceless. In a black suit with a red tie.” Patrick says flatly, and her eyes go wide and wild. She sputters, pulling away, scared. “Always there. Always watching even though it doesn’t have eyes. It hurts your head when it’s around. No one else ever seems to know it. No one else ever seems to see it. Not even Shaun. Familiar?”

“I don’t- can we not talk about it? I don’t… I didn’t know you knew it. I… We can’t talk about it.” Stormy says, words falling away as she rambles off a response. “I don’t want it to show up. I can’t- I can’t deal with it again.”

“I won’t bring it up again,” Patrick answers. “I just wanted you to know you’re not alone.”

“How did you… know?”

“Shaun said we had a lot in common. Figured I’d test the waters. Even if it wasn’t the same… I could spin it as a ghost story. Something to scare you.” Patrick answered. She curled in on herself, head draped on the armrest of the couch as she stared at the wall. “If you see it… please tell me. Be honest with me. I don’t care what I’m doing, I don’t care what it’s doing… I just need to know when it’s around.”

“Why?” Stormy asks after a moment.

“To do something about it.” He says, and Stormy just… laughs. A flat, disheartened noise.

“What’re you going to do about it?” Stormy asks, staring at him. He’s quiet for a moment. Thinking about whether he should proceed. He runs a hand through his hair as he thinks. “Michael? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but… I’m not Michael.” He answers, and she looks at him with some degree of recognition. She knows of him.

“Oh. You’re…” Stormy’s words drift as she looks away from him.

“Patrick. Did… did Shaun talk about me?” He asked, wringing his hands.

“Almost as much as Michael,” Stormy replied. “Not… not explaining everything at first. She’d talk about you like you were a friend who moved away a long time ago. Not like… not like you and Michael were… the way you are.”

“The way we are.” Patrick echoes with a laugh. “One way to put it.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean anything by it.” Stormy responds.

“No, I know. I just… thought it was a funny way to phrase it. How much did she tell you about me? Detail wise.” Patrick asked. “I’ve… been having memory troubles. Was thinking you might be able to help me.”

“She… she said you used to be one of her best friends. That you two were close. If Michael wasn’t around to be it was you glued to her.” Stormy answered. “She loved you. You were her brother and… something you did changed that.”

“Something I did… did she say what I did? That’s… the big thing I can’t place.” Patrick asked. Stormy analyzed him for a moment, lips drawn into a thin line.

“Not… not anything specific. Just that… you ruined Michael’s life with whatever it was, and that it… changed things. And then you just… disappeared.” Stormy answered. “She didn’t hear from you again until Michael’s last week away. She knew you were around. Knew you were doing things to keep him there. She… never knew why. She never got the chance to ask.”

“Well. I… I have to admit, I can’t remember any of it. Nothing before the week of his release. All just… blank.” Patrick answered. “Shaun doesn’t believe that. I… don’t blame her.”

“I believe you,” Stormy said after a moment of silence. “It’s… I don’t know you, of course, but… something about you… I believe what you’re saying. That you don’t remember. If… if I find out anything else, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you. That… means a lot.” Patrick says, but he pauses. There’s a pressure building in his head. He feels faint. It’s as though something is pushing against him from inside his skull. He stands suddenly, stumbling forward. Stormy stands as well, moving to catch him.

Michael pushes her away lightly, stumbling into the wall. He’s breathing heavily, heart beating fast as he looks around confused. His eyes lock on Stormy, and he begins to relax. He’s home. He’s not somewhere else. He’s not back there. He’s home. “I… what happened?”

“Michael?” She asks quietly.

“I’m- I’m fine.” He says, looking away. “I… I think I was just sleepwalking. I was just sleepwalking.”

“What… what do you remember doing last?”

“I… I woke up because of a bad dream.” He lies. “I tried to go back to sleep. The stress… it must’ve been what made me sleepwalk. I… I should go back to bed.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, leaving quickly. Returning to his room. As Michael does, Patrick is still left reeling.

He has never been pushed out so quickly, so decisively before. Another difference.

Chapter Text

Everything was stacking up to make Patrick feel very, very much lacking in control. He hated the feeling. Hated the idea that he wasn’t at least one step ahead. Hated that everything felt like it was spiralling without anything having yet gone wrong. He was glad to at least have an ally in Stormy. Someone who… didn’t hate his guts, or think he was fake, or anything. Someone who just took him at face value.  

He supposed it helped that he hadn’t tormented her. Not yet anyway, and he continued to hope it wouldn’t come to that. Right now… right now he needed to break through to Shaun. Needed to figure out how to get her to communicate with him. So, with control being his, he took his chance, unsure now how long that control would last.

“Shaun. We need to talk. Seriously, I need you to answer some of my questions.” Patrick said, not giving her a moment to speak as he approached her. He wouldn’t say the exact words yet, but… he was scared. Scared of not being ahead. Scared of not knowing things. Scared of not having the same amount of control. Scared that things would go wrong. He didn’t say the words. He didn’t want to, and… he didn’t need to. Shaun took one look at him and… paused. She frowned, glancing away, clearly thinking. 

“Did something happen?” She asks after a moment of quiet. “Is everything alright?”

“No, everything is not alright. Yes, something happened, in a sense.” Patrick answers, pacing around the kitchen. “Nothing is the way it’s supposed to be. Everything… everything is different in a way that is massive, and distinct. Stormy shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have things figured out. Michael… Michael shouldn’t be acting like I’m not real! Everything has changed significantly and I need answers.”

“Slow down,” Shaun says, taking a step towards him. He stops in place, not realizing how quickly his heart had started to go. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about. I need you to slow down, and start from the beginning.”

“The beginning, Shaun, is only about a month ago! I don’t remember anything else! That isn’t- that isn’t normal! I was active, and clearly, I was around, but I don’t remember any of it, and I remember everything! It’s not- It’s not the way things are supposed to be!” He runs a hand through his hair, squeezing it into a fist as it falls to his side. “And… and it always takes you time to figure things out. Between our- between your parents, and Eric, and everything, it always takes you time. And you never acknowledge me. Not for a long time. It’s always… I’m always just part of whatever’s wrong with Michael to you. And you’re never this… this open. This willing to approach me. And I wouldn’t blame you! I’m a piece of shit to you when it starts, I have to be. I have to keep you and everyone at arm's length. And Stormy- it’s always that she and Michael are friends. They meet as kids, they meet in the hospital, and it’s never that you meet her first. It’s never that you’re roommates. Things change. They always change. But they’ve never- they’ve never changed like this. It’s never been this much change and I-”

“Sit down,” Shaun says, gently taking him by the arm. He flinches away from her for a moment, regarding her with a wild-eyed stare. She takes a moment to step back as Patrick blinks blearily, trying to breathe. “Patrick. You need to sit down.”

“I’m fine.” He sputters out.

“I’ll tell you everything if you just… sit down, and listen. Everything I remember, anyway.” She says, and he looks at her again before slowly taking a seat at the kitchen table, feeling as though his heart is about to explode. “I don’t… I don’t fully get what you’re talking about, but… you’re scared. You’re freaking out, and… even if I don’t understand why, even if I don’t like you… I want to try and get it figured out.”

“If you want to get it figured out, you’re going to have to start believing in a lot of things you don’t believe in right now. And one of those things is believing you can trust me.” Patrick says, growing quiet. He draws in a shaky breath. “But I know you won’t. I know how you are. I’ve known you for decades.”

“How about I start from the beginning,” Shaun says after a moment. “Since… since the memory problem seems to be getting to you.”

“Please. I just… I just want to know what I did. How different that is.” Patrick says, voice far shakier than he’d like. Everything was far shakier than he’d like. “I need to know what happened.”

“It was a Tuesday,” Shaun says quietly. “We had been close. The three of us. You and Michael were always together, but… both of you and I were always joined at the hip. We’d always be together. We’d always play in the woods. It was… it was you and me that day. We were going out to the clock.”

“I didn’t think you’d remember it,” Patrick muttered.

“It’d be hard not to. We… we spent all of our time out there. Away from our parents. Away from everything.” Shaun responded. “I… the next part gets a bit fuzzy. Something happened, and we were running from the monster, and… the next thing I know I’m on the ground, and you’re staring at me with this… this look in your eye.”

“And then… I broke your arm and leg?” Patrick suggests, and Shaun looks at him.

“I thought you didn’t remember.”

“I don’t remember it this time around, but… it isn’t the first time. It’s… it’s a quick way to get us separated. A quick way to keep you safe from the man in the suit.” Patrick answers, and Shaun seems to take this in, nodding slowly.

“You pretended to be him. Acted violent. Got him sent away. Kept acting violently to keep him there for the past 16 years. You… you ruined his life. And you betrayed my trust. And… you made me feel like it had all been some great trick. Like you were just waiting for the perfect moment to do it. To hurt us. And I didn’t get why. I still don’t get why.” Shaun continued. “The longer I went without getting an answer, the angrier it made me. The more I hated you for doing all of it. The less I understood. And… you never bothered to explain it. You were always gone when it came to a time where I could even ask, and then… you did show up. And I didn’t know what to say.”

“I was trying to protect you. From the monster. At least for a little while. It… always comes for us eventually, but… I can get more time when you’re not around each other. Hurting you was an easy way to do that. Out of character, makes people think Michael might be dangerous, and makes him get sent away. From there it’s easy to keep him away.” Patrick answers quietly. “Gives me time to plan. To figure things out. Keeps you from dying before I get the chance to save you.”

“Fucked up way of keeping someone safe.” She says with a grimace.

“I know. That’s why I tried to stop doing it. I… I don’t know why I did it here. It wasn’t… perfect last time. But it made things better. At least a little bit.” Patrick admits. “I don’t know why things played out the way they did. I wish… I wish I could remember. I wish I could’ve done things differently.”

He’s quiet for a long moment.

“I love you, you know? Even if you hate me. Even if you want nothing to do with me. You’ll always be my little sister.” Patrick says, wringing his hands as he stares at the table. Shaun doesn’t say anything for what feels like forever.

“I think you should try and get some rest,” Shaun says quietly, reaching out to cup the side of his face. “You look like neither of you have been sleeping very well. Go… go lie down. We can talk some more later.”

“Alright.” He responds, and she pulls away, giving him a look that he can’t quite parse as he makes his way out of the kitchen. He does go to rest. He isn’t sure what to make of their conversation, and he sorely needs it.

It still doesn’t make sense that things are so different, especially when the start seems like it’s so much of the same. Logically… nothing should’ve changed. But everything did. Everything was different. Patrick closed his eyes, trying to think of what the explanation could be in the moments before he fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Michael couldn’t remember when he had gone to bed, but… he was glad he had. He felt the best he had in a very long time. Like he was actually, properly rested for once in his life, it was nice not to feel entirely exhausted as he wandered downstairs into the kitchen, glancing at a clock on the living room wall as he passed. It was early, seven in the morning. Earlier than others would likely be up on a Saturday, but… there Shaun was. She looked terrible. Like she hadn’t slept at all, simply staring at the wall across the room. Michael approached, and her glazed eyes focused on him, before she quietly smiled. 

“You feeling better?” She asked after a second, and Michael looked at her with a slightly baffled expression.

“Did I… say something about feeling bad?” Michael said, scratching his head as he tried to remember when that had been. He couldn’t place it, but he didn’t doubt that he had said something and simply forgotten. “Well. I am feeling better. I feel like I slept like a rock or something. Or just got proper sleep for the first time.”

“No, you didn’t mention it. Just thought you were looking tired lately. I’m glad you got some decent rest.” Shaun says, still avoidant of mentioning Patrick. At some point in their lives, Michael had acknowledged him. Seen him as some separate aspect. But… she knew that had changed. What Patrick said only confirmed that. So, it was best not to bring him up yet, best to let Michael settle in more before trying to convince him of the existence of Patrick. Patrick, in general, was something she was concerned about. He was something she was concerned about from the day Michael was told he’d be released soon. He was… unpredictable. An unknown, despite having been known once before. He had almost entirely disappeared for the last 16 years, and knowing what he was capable of… that made him potentially dangerous. But ever since his return… those fears were crushed, and replaced with very different concerns. He was confused, afraid, lashing out in a very different way. Sure, he could be lying, could be putting on some sort of act, but… something made Shaun doubt that. Some little bit of instinct led her to believe that the way Patrick was presenting… was all reflective of the truth. He was confused. He was scared. And that scared Shaun. Michael looked at her with a cocked head, before quietly snapping his fingers, shocking her out of thought.

“You’re spacing out. Everything alright?” Michael asks a light smile on his face. Shaun looks at him for a moment, thinking of what to say.

“Just worried about a friend is all.” She replies, putting on a smile of her own. “Don’t worry about it, it isn’t too serious just… taking up a lot of brain space.”

“Well… hopefully whatever’s going on can get figured out,” Michael replies, sitting down at the table. He drums his fingers on it for a moment, thinking. “Have I been… acting weird at all?”

“Acting weird?” Shaun responds.

“I don’t know, just… not acting like myself? Doing… weird things.” Michael says. He looks away, wringing his hands now. “Saying weird things.”

“No,” Shaun says after a moment. “I don’t think you have. I haven’t noticed anything, anyway.”

It isn’t technically a lie since the one acting weird isn’t Michael. It’s Patrick. And Shaun can rest reliably knowing she isn’t, technically, lying. Michael is quiet for a moment, clearly thinking about something before nodding. “Good. If… if I start acting weird, or doing things, and… it doesn’t seem like I remember them could you just… let me know? I’ve been… I’ve been losing time again.”

“Of course. Just… tell me when you feel like there’s a block of time missing too. Maybe I could help remind you what you were up to.” Shaun says quietly, offering a small smile. Michael grins back. 

“That’d be great.” He says. But… the grin falters for a moment. He cocks his head again, eyes narrowing before a hand goes up to his head. He winces, standing up from the table and stumbling back, drawing in a sharp breath. 

“Michael?” Shaun asks, standing herself and moving towards him, carefully reaching out to support him as he stumbles again. And then she feels it too. It starts as a buzzing and quickly grows to some kind of cacophony like a million bees trapped in her skull. The buzzing turns to a pressure, one that radiates a pain she has felt before. Black spots cloud her vision as instinctively, her eyes are drawn to the window. She sees it then, standing there silently, eyeless but… she knows it’s watching them.

She saw it when they were kids, and for a long time… she had forgotten. And then she met Stormy. She hadn’t seen it at first when Stormy had come into her life. It was still a distant memory then, but… a memory that Stormy had slowly pulled from the depths, describing her visions of it, waiving them off as nothing more than a hallucination. Until they both were seeing it, and Shaun remembered childhood, remembered part of the reason Michael was in the hospital in the first place, remembered it all. That was when Shaun knew it had been more than nightmares. That was when Shaun knew every piece of it had been real.

Before she has time to do anything herself, Michael grabs her by the shoulders, forcing her to move out of the room. His eyes are steely, and there is blood dripping down his face. It is then that Shaun realizes she’s no longer dealing with Michael.

Patrick has arrived once more.

“Where is she?” He asks once they’re away from the window. He lets go of Shaun, moving around the room in a quick circle, closing all the blinds. When he stops, his eyes lock onto her. “Where is she? Is Stormy home? Is she out somewhere?”

“She was up in her room earlier,” Shaun answers, and instantly Patrick is moving towards the stairs.

“Stay here.” He says. “Scream if you see anything. I can’t- I can’t let it get to you.”

She doesn’t push for elaboration, and even if she had Patrick is already up the stairs, and from the sound of his footsteps has quickly made his way across the hall. She can hear a door open, can hear muffled talking, and then two sets of footsteps make their way back.

“It’s out there? In the daytime?” She asks as soon as they both hit the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve never- I’ve never seen it at any time other than night.”

“It’s out there. Basement, now.” Patrick answers quickly, releasing Stormy’s hand as he moves towards the basement door. He glances behind, confirming that the two are listening. Confirming that they are following. Quickly, he pushes open the red door, and the trio steps through. He’s quick to pull the string on the light, illuminating the small room. Stormy is quick to find a spot on the floor, Shaun a little slower to get down beside her, wincing as the weight on her one leg shifts. Patrick… watches her, and she notices him paying attention.

“Leg still bothers me. Never really healed right.” Shaun says, glancing away.

“I figured,” Patrick responded quietly. “It never really does.”

“You… were talking about it happening before. In… in a different life.” Shaun says quietly. Patrick just… slowly nods. “I… it’s still hard to wrap my head around? The idea that this… has all happened before. But…”

There’s a long pause.

“I believe you. I… I believe all of it.” Shaun answers, and Stormy takes her hand. That is when Shaun jolts up, facing towards her. “Shit, Stormy you wouldn’t have-”

“I’ve met him.” Stormy answers, offering a small smile. “We spoke the other night.”

“Oh,” Shaun says, quietly. “Ok. Good. I’m glad. I… I know I’ve mentioned him but… I know I wasn’t… entirely transparent about him. I know he can be… a lot.”

“I’m right here!” He retorts with a wry smile, but… quickly withdraws. “Sorry. I know I’m… an intense person. I also probably shouldn’t joke, you never like the way I joke much.”

“Patrick. Stop.” Shaun says quietly. “You’re fine. You don’t need to be so… jumpy around me.”

“I… alright. You’re right.” Patrick mutters, finding his own place on the floor across from the pair. He taps the ground in a quiet rhythm, looking away.

“I’m serious Patrick,” Shaun says after a moment. “You… you’re jumpy in general, in a way I’ve never seen you before. You’ve always been so… so confident. So… sure of everything. I don’t… get what’s up with you now. The way you’re acting… it’s like you’re scared of your own shadow.”

“It feels that way, sometimes,” Patrick says, and Shaun furrows her brow. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I… I don’t know what’s happening. I told you already, that everything is different and I don’t know why, and that… that…”

“Patrick,” Shaun says, reaching across the small space between them, and placing her hand over his. “You don’t… you don’t have to talk about it. It’s… clearly freaking you out. Just… take a breath. Take a minute. Let’s… talk about something else.”

Patrick grows quiet. He swallows thickly and meets Shaun’s eyes. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something, but… he quickly stops. He is entirely quiet for a long while, a quiet no one else interrupts.

“I… used to think I could handle you hating me, you know,” Patrick says quietly. “But then… then I found out what it felt like for you to… like me. To love me. To… to treat me like I was… a brother instead of a stranger in your brother's body. And now… now I don’t know what to do when you hate me again. I didn’t… want any of it to happen like this. I thought- I thought I’d be able to stop it from happening like this. I thought… I don’t know what I thought.”

There is quiet.

“Sorry. I know you probably wanted… some kind of ‘how’s the weather’ small talk, I shouldn’t be, uh… such a downer.” He says, punctuating his words with some half-hearted jazz hands. His grin falters. “I know you probably don’t want to hear how uh, me hurting you affects me. It’s a bit self-centred, really, but I’ve always been a vain creature.”

He’s trying to reverse it. Trying to put his walls back in place, brick by brick. Shaun sees it. Stormy, despite knowing him very little, can see it. He feels far, far too vulnerable. He feels like he is choking on it like everything he’s said is hanging in the air like a thick smog.

“Patrick…” and there comes the pity. Patrick cannot take it. Cannot stand it. It is the only thing that gets truly under his skin. He gets to his feet, hands in the air, a big, fake grin on his face.

“Gotta check the state of the union. Make sure tall and faceless didn’t find his way inside through a cracked window or something. I’ll be back in a minute, and if I’m not I’ll be back in a few days.” Patrick says, making his way towards the door with haste. 

“Patrick, what the fuck.” Shaun says, standing up as fast as she can manage. “You can’t go out there and just… just hope it isn’t around. You could get hurt. You’d get Michael hurt.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Patrick responds dryly. “I ruined his life, after all.”

“Patrick-” Before Shaun can do anything, he is gone. It is like watching a hole open up in the world. A flash of light like a bomb, a fuzz of static, and it’s like he was never there at all. Shaun curses under her breath.

“Is he… okay?” Stormy asks after a moment. 

“He’s going to get himself killed, is what he is,” Shaun says bitterly, trying to think of what to do now.

Chapter Text

He isn’t back in a minute. He isn’t back in a few days. He isn’t even back in a week. The more time passes, the more Shaun’s heart sinks. The more that she begins to accept her brother is very likely dead. It’s… an odd feeling. Mourning without a body. Knowing something terrible happened, but not knowing what. It feels like someone has left a stone in her heart, dragging her down towards the center of the earth. She feels listless. Most days are spent in total stasis. Stormy notices this, and tries to do something about it, but… there’s only so much she can do. She knows that Shaun is mourning, and knows it is made all the harder by a lack of closure.

But then, there is a knock on the door. Three months to the day he vanished. She didn’t think anything of it. She didn’t assume it would be much of anything at all, and then he was there. His hair is longer. He looks scragglier, but… he’s got a big grin on his face, sheepish despite the confidence he stands on the front porch with. Shaun can’t help but begin to bawl, giving him a light shove. 

“You are such a fucking dick!” She says between sobs. “I thought you were dead! I thought Michael was dead! You didn’t- you didn’t say anything, you didn’t call, you are such an asshole!”

“Hard to call when you’re not allowed a phone,” Patrick answers nonchalantly. Shaun just looks at him. She wants to slam the door in his face, wants to tell him to fuck off, but… she can’t. Not after all the grief she went through thinking something terrible happened. She steps aside, letting him in despite the mix of emotions she feels. “I was… back on the inside.”

“Back on the inside?” Shaun asks, gears turning in her head as she furiously wipes the tears from her eyes. “You mean back in the hospital?”

“Started as a 72-hour hold, ‘for our safety’… ‘erratic behaviour’ was what they said extended it. Which- I won’t lie, I was acting pretty erratic.” He says after a moment, laughing as though it’s no big deal. But… he stops. His face grows serious for a moment. “It was… just me, by the way. Michael… wasn’t the one going through it. I wouldn’t put him through that again he’s… had enough. And… he wasn’t the one who needed it, anyway.”

“I thought you were dead.” Shaun just echoes, sitting down on the couch, head in her hands. She starts to sob again, and Patrick stands there awkwardly, unsure what to do. Shaun sniffles, breathing heavily as she tries to get herself under control. “I just- I don’t get it. I don’t get why you would even run off like that. I don’t get why you are the way you are. I don’t get you.”

“I… I can’t explain it. I don’t have an explanation for you. I didn’t even realize how long it had been, it was just… all a blur.” Patrick says, mumbling. He sits on the couch opposite Shaun, careful to keep his distance. Not wanting to encroach on her space. “I, uh, I remember leaving. I don’t remember where I wound up. I don’t remember… how I got into the 72-hour hold. I don’t remember why I was there for three months. I… it scares me. It freaks me the fuck out, that I can’t remember what the hell I was doing. That isn’t… normal for me.”

“Why did you leave? Why would you… why would you risk like that? Put Michael at risk like that?” Shaun asks. “I still don’t get that. I still don’t… I still don’t understand.”

“It was… it was stupid. It was… over nothing. Nothing at all.” Patrick says with a sigh.

“I don’t believe that,” Shaun says, locking her eyes on his. “I don’t believe that it was nothing. I don’t believe that it was just some… stupid snap decision. I… know you. Even if I haven’t known you for 16 years, I still know you. And I know even if you’re acting fucking erratic, you’re not the type to just… do that over nothing.”

“Shaun, I…” He stops. He looks away. His hand curls into a fist. “I was scared.”

“You were scared?” Shaun says, tone unreadable. 

“I… I don’t-” He stops, growing very, very quiet. He stands, suddenly, striding across the room. He presses his back against the wall, sliding to the ground, head in his hands. He lets out a single, strangled sob, and then something shifts. His body language is entirely different. His head snaps up, and he looks around, clearly dazed. He blinks a few times, eyes training on Shaun.

“I feel like… I feel like shit.” He says quietly. Michael gets to a shaky stand, and Shaun is quick to move across the room, to wrap him in a tight hug. He pauses, wrapping his arms around her in turn. “Shaun? We were… we were just in the kitchen.”

“It’s been three months,” Shaun says, and she can’t help the sobs that erupt. “It’s been three months, and I thought you were dead. I thought you were never coming back.”

“What? What are you talking about?” Michael responds, growing nervous. “What do you mean three months? Why would I be gone for three months? Why would I be dead?”

“Michael. There’s a lot that I need to tell you. There’s… a fucking lot you need to be ready to accept.” Shaun says, pulling away. “I think you should sit down.”

When Stormy gets back, the house is quiet. Shaun is alone in the living room, staring at the wall across from her in silence. She approaches quietly, putting a gentle hand on Shaun’s shoulder. “Did something happen?”

“They came back,” Shaun says flatly.

“That’s… that’s great news!” Stormy says, elated herself. Shaun’s lack of response makes her pause. She frowns. “It’s great news, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know if it’s great news,” Shaun admits. “Something is… wrong. And I don’t know what to do. Patrick is… nothing like I’ve ever seen him. He’s acting… completely unstable. Them being gone for three months was… apparently in the mental hospital, not… Michael, but Patrick. And I don’t get why. And… I tried to explain Patrick to Michael. He didn’t take it well.”

“Where are they now?” Stormy asks quietly, a hand resting on Shaun’s back.

“Patrick… I don’t know. He flipped out, and then Michael was here again. And… Michael is upstairs. He said he needed some time to think about things. What he’s thinking about, I don’t know.” Shaun sighs. “I just… wish it was simpler. Wish I could untangle everything. I wish I could just… write Patrick off entirely.”

“But you care about him, don’t you?” Stormy asks.

“He’s such a piece of shit. He’s always doing… stupid bullshit, or acting confusing as fuck, or just… being the most neurotic man alive, and I hate his fucking guts sometimes. But…” Shaun stops for a moment, sighing. “He’s still my brother. His being back just… kept reminding me that once he was my brother. And he still is. And I don’t know what’s got him so freaked all the time, but I just… want him to tell me. So we can figure it out, instead of him constantly fucking… causing so many problems because he’s running around acting all crazy.”

“Have you told him that?” Stormy asks after a moment of silence between the two.

“No. I haven’t had a chance. The last two times it’s maybe been possible he’s… run off.” Shaun says with a small sigh. “The next time he’s here. The next time I speak to him I’ll make sure he knows.”

“And Michael? Do you know what you’re going to do about him?” Stormy asks after another moment of hesitation.

“I don’t. I feel like… like he’s going to be tough to get through to. He doesn’t want any of this to be real. I thought… you being in at least partially a similar situation would help him, but… I feel like he’s just closing up more.” Shaun admits. “And I don’t know how to help him.”

“You’ll figure it out. I’m sure you will. You’ll… you’ll find something to get him to come around.” Stormy says, offering a small smile. Shaun gives a light smile back, pressing her head into the crook of her neck. Stormy rests her head on top of Shaun’s. “Everything’ll work itself out.”

Chapter Text

He wonders if this is hell. If the last time he died was truly the last, and this was some kind of divine punishment being doled out for all his greatest mistakes. It was entirely illogical, but as was every other change. As were the heart palpitations that began to spring up whenever he felt far too closely scrutinized. As was how much he cared about what the others all thought. All of it was entirely devoid of any sound logic.

Then again, he wasn’t exactly the most sound guy around and never had been. Prone to fits of rage, prone to flights of fancy, prone to many things. Laying prone now. He lay down on the floor, trying to think over a distinct, thick fog in his head that gummed up all trains of thought, arms resting under his forehead as he tried to simply think . Everything felt like a mountain lately. Every emotion, every problem, every struggle he faced felt insurmountable in a way they never had before, and he had no idea why.

Maybe it was getting used to sharing a body again. Maybe it was something else. He truly, deeply did not care as long as it stopped impeding him . He wanted to be able to function , even momentarily, to be able to do something. To be able to protect his family. After about five more minutes of this… frankly embarrassing display of weakness on his part, he pushed himself into a seated position, back against the side of Michael’s bed, head tilted back, eyes closed. 

Quite frankly, he felt like he was dying. His heart wouldn’t stop beating out of his chest. Despite his struggles with coherent, conscious thought, there was a constant stream of nonsense he couldn’t get under control. There was a distinct, intense feeling of exhaustion constantly . He wished he was dead instead. Dead would be easier than the body fighting against him at every possible opportunity. Dead would mean things would change, maybe even to a more familiar setting.

He quelled the thought. A stray, unwanted thing. Dead was something he could not be. He had a responsibility, after all. A requirement to try . The hospital had been part of his trying. Or at least, that’s the idea he had decided to go with, considering he still couldn’t remember why he had gone there (another concern, spotty memory when he had always been spotless). It had been… fine enough. It hadn’t been helpful , but then again in decades of going through it, it never had. He didn’t know how to help himself, either. Despite always having a plan, for once in his miserable life he truly did not have an inkling of what to do whatsoever, and that was terrifying.

He hadn’t even realized someone had come in. Hadn’t even realized they stepped across the room, crouching beside him, trying to get his attention. For a moment, the fog let through a distinct thought to look at them, but he had barely processed who or what ‘them’ even was. Dazedly, he glanced to his left. His mind ran for a minute. Her mouth was moving. Her brow was furrowed. She was… mad? No. Worried. Worried about Michael, most likely. She probably thinks he’s Michael. He should say something, and make sure she knows not to waste her concerns over him. He feels sick to his stomach, and he doesn’t know why. Finally, it’s like a snap moment. He jolts slightly, and the fog recedes as he locks eyes with her.

“Sorry. A little zoned out there. A lot on my mind.” He says, not even bothering to flash a grin. Not even bothering to do much of anything. She… frowns at him.

“Michael, are you alright?” She asks. “It was… I don’t know. It was creepy. You were looking at me like I wasn’t even there.”

“Not Michael.” He says quietly, drawing his legs towards himself. “Not feeling quite myself either.”

“Patrick. Focus on me.” Shaun says firmly. He hadn’t even realized his attention was already drifting. The fog rolled back in. Something was wrong with him. Something was wrong with him, and he didn’t know what and had no way to figure out what. There was a rot somewhere deep within him. He could feel it, tendrils reaching throughout him, killing him. Yes. A deep-seated rot that would cannibalize him. That would take him and return him to dust. Yes. that had to be the answer. “Patrick. Come on. You’re alright.”

“I think I’m dying.” He blurts out, and there is a quiet as thick as the fog in his head and as heavy as an anvil. He feels like he is going to have a heart attack. His chest is tight, but his heart beats quicker and quicker, it feels like it is on the verge of combustion. As though the tendrils of whatever rot is inside him have squeezed around his heart and are ready to let it burst. He drew in a sharp breath. “I’m not. I’m not.”

“Patrick,” Shaun said quietly, taking his hand and squeezing it. “Patrick you’re not… dying. I don’t think you’re dying.”

“Why do you even care?” He asks, eyes shifting away. “Why are you even still here?”

“Because I… care about you. Because I want you to be ok as much as I want Michael to be ok?” Shaun says, and Patrick feels the tendrils constrict. He feels that deep, sickly feeling grow even deeper, and he is sure that it is about to take him. That this will be his unceremonious end. 

But nothing takes him. Nothing but a brief darkness, anyway.

He awakens on the living room couch. He is sweating profusely.  He feels ill to his core. He still feels as though there is a rot deep within him, but… for now, it feels like it isn’t killing him. He sits up, a wave of dizziness and nausea washing over him as he does. At the very least, his heart is beating normally. He feels dazed somewhat as he gets to his feet, black spots clouding his vision. No one else is here. Or at the very least, no one making themselves apparent. He takes a breath. Everything is… fine. Everything is going to be fine. He just needs to get himself under control. This is what he’s thinking as he crosses the threshold between the living room and the kitchen, intent on a glass of water.

He instead finds himself in the woods. Instantly, everything feels like it has dropped. He whips around, looking behind him half expecting to see the clock. To see it . But… he doesn’t. It’s only the woods. Only trees for as far as he can see into the gloom. He does a full circle, once, twice, and then on the third rotation… his eyes settle on a shadow.

“You’re acting like an idiot.” The shadow grins. “Acting like a fool. It’s embarrassing. You’re supposed to be-”

“Better than that. I’m well aware.” Patrick states with a grimace. “I’m aware of all of it. Aware that I should know better by now than to be taken by… nonsense. Overcome by things that don’t matter.”

“But they do matter. To you, at least. They matter far, far too much. Everything is far too much, constant, unending, everything.” The shadow circles around Patrick, eyes practically aglow in the gloom, locked onto solely him. “And you feel rotten . Feel like there’s something deep inside of you that must be excised. That must be cut out . Something that you have to make up for. Something you carry that is dark and terrible.”

“What’s the point of this?” Patrick spits. “What’s the point of any of this?”

“You’re resting, is the point of this. Dreaming. In your own head.” The shadow answers. “But you knew that already. I’m just… the congregation of your thoughts, after all. Your… reflection.”

“You're short, for something meant to be my reflection,” Patrick mutters bitterly.

“A snapshot of a life you didn’t get to lead. Not in a meaningful manner, anyway. Something you still refuse to think about. Something you behave as though you don’t remember, spiralling out from an origin you wish was buried in the rubble.” The shadow says, continuing to circle like a vulture. “It’s pitiful. Then again, what about you isn’t pitiful these days? ‘Oh poor me, my life is so hard, I am so hated, I am so alone. I am dying. I am dying.’”

The shadow laughs, giving a dramatic bow. Patrick rolls his eyes, glancing around the Grey. “I don’t get why this place has to give my thoughts form. You being the result of that is proof enough they’re nothing worthwhile.”

“I’m hurt.” The shadow snickers. “So rude, and for what?”

“Are you just here to dance around and taunt me?” Patrick snaps. “Or do you have an actual use?”

“I’m your thoughts. If there’s any use to them, it’s for you to figure out.” The shadow says. “You would be enough to be the pitiful one who just wants to taunt himself. Just wants to stew in his own misery. Always so dramatic . Always acting like the world is at an end.”

“You’re just proof there’s something wrong with me.” Patrick sighs. “And you talk about me knowing where I came from. I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know what caused me to be the way that I am. I don’t know what I am.”

“Really? First time noticing? God, most people had that memo decades ago. Congrats on finally figuring it out, smart guy.” The shadow says with a raucous laugh. “There’s been something wrong with you since the first day you died. Something terribly, horribly, irreparably wrong with you. Maybe you would’ve figured that out sooner if you hadn’t gone and thrown away the memory. For someone so insistent on remembering everything, it seems like a huge fucking oversight to forget how it all began.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t forget,” Patrick says. “I just… don’t know it. I don’t know what happened.”

“Well. It happened to you. So not knowing… strikes me an awful lot like forgetting.” The shadow replies. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Letting things slip. You’re losing your touch. Losing your grip. Something happened to you. Something you can’t pin down. Something you desperately need to fix.”

“Then tell me what it is so I can fix it!” Patrick says, entirely exasperated.

“Sorry. Can’t help. I know as much as you do.” The shadow grins again, and then there is a feeling like coming up from underwater after holding his breath, and Patrick truly wakes up, breathing heavily. He grips his head, leaning forward in place as he tries to make sense of it all.

He needs to know what happened. To know what originally happened. To know what he truly is. To know what changed things so severely here. He needs to get himself sorted out. Needs to figure out what that rot inside of him is. Needs to get a grip on things.

He has no idea where to even start.