Chapter Text
Jimmy had been hearing voices for a while. They kept him up at night, they grabbed hold of his very being and squeezed him until he was but a shell of his former self. He had a life, damnit. He didn't need to be pursuing such… theories. That’s what they were. Just theories. Nothing more. Except he knew they had reason. He wasn’t crazy, the world was crazy for not seeing his vision. He wasn’t safe. He was cursed.
He’d had this one dream for a while now. It’s what cost him his job. It’d start like a normal dream, snippets of his day, pieces of his life. He’d dream of his cat, or his office job, (he’d given that up to research the theory.) It’d be fine and dandy, until the eyes came in. His surroundings would suddenly become too real. He’d be able to feel the ground beneath him, the plastic-y leather of his chair, and the feeling of being watched. The panic would set in. Fight or flight would take place. He’d run away until he was out of breath.
“Don’t be scared, Jim,” a voice that he couldn’t quite place would say. It was always distorted, the tone shrouded with echoes.
He’d be frozen in place. If he was lucky, he’d see the hooded figure. The purple tinge, and the mask painted with some kind of broken rectangle. He wouldn’t be able to touch anything, too stuck in place to resist. The figure would stay there, waiting, listening to his quickening breath. Then Jimmy would wake up in a cold sweat.
“I’m telling you, Martyn,” he said. His friend had taken him out on a coffee date. Apparently he’d been ‘stuck inside too long’. That was utter nonsense. He’d been fired, what, a week ago? It hadn’t been that long. “I’m telling you, they’re real.”
“I believe you, mate,” Martyn said, sipping his London fog. “I believe this stuff too. But I don’t think the Watchers rule over us. You’re in too deep.”
“I’m not crazy,” Jimmy said. The coffee he was drinking had not soothed his nerves. “I can prove it to you. It’s the police who are keeping it from us. The Watchers control them.”
“Jim,” Martyn shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Seriously, man. You gotta be hearing yourself. I think being fired took too much of a toll on you. Tell you what, come over to my place tomorrow. I’ll watch over you, make sure nothing will go wrong.”
Jimmy wasn't paying attention. He traced the same rectangle he saw in his dreams over and over on his napkin, eventually tearing the material.
Martyn sighed, “I’ll call your doctor. You need help, man.”
“I’m fine.”
Martyn shook his head and dialed the number of Jimmy’s doctor. He’d memorized the number when Jimmy spent sleepless nights at his desk back when he worked his office job. He cared about Jimmy. Martyn was just a bit worried that Jimmy was taking his Watcher theory a bit too seriously.
Jimmy turned his chair around and watched the people in the café. He tried to be normal, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. He flinched as a cat rubbed up against his leg. Right, Martyn had chosen a cat café of all places. Jimmy gave the black cat some head scratches before it wandered off. He sat back up, watching as it hopped into the lap of a man with a hoodie on.
‘Weird,’
Jimmy thought,
‘putting a hoodie on inside a heated room…’
His heart dropped when he realized the colour of the hoodie. Purple. The exact purple he saw in his dreams. The man wasn’t wearing a full mask like the Watchers in his dreams. The man was wearing a simple face mask. He squinted at him. His eyesight had quickly deteriorated from staring at a screen 24/7. The purple mask had a lighter purple rectangle on it. The rectangle from his dream. He froze up. He couldn’t move. He needed to tell Martyn. This just proved their theory. He wasn’t crazy. He rubbed his eyes, and the man disappeared
‘Shit,’ he’d been so close to proving this. So so close. If only he’d told Martyn.
“Jimmy,” Martyn’s voice cut through his racing thoughts. “I scheduled an appointment for you.”
“Oh… Thanks,” Jimmy said absentmindedly.
“No problem,” Martyn finished the last of his tea, and gathered their dishes.
“Thanks,” Jimmy smiled half heartedly. He observed Martyn as he walked to the counter and talked with the waitress for a bit. Martyn was a good friend. Jimmy knew deep down he was just looking out for him, but he also felt he had something to prove. Jimmy needed to prove the Watchers were real. He’d dreamt of them and had just seen one physically, right? It was concrete. He just needed more time, more evidence. Martyn headed back to Jimmy, and the pair left the cat café.
“What’d you think of Cleo’s new business?” Martyn asked, trying to distract Jimmy.
“It was fine, I liked the black cat.”
“You don’t believe they bring bad luck?”
“Cats were worshiped mythological figures. I highly doubt that they bring bad luck,” Jimmy chuckled. The two stood outside Jimmy’s appartement.
“Well then,” Martyn patted Jimmy on the back, “this is where I leave you. I gotta do some data analysis. Working from home is both a blessing and a curse.”
Jimmy nodded, “Bye, Martyn.”
Martyn waved as he left. He sighed when he turned the corner, exhausted. He was really worried for Jimmy. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. He’d done everything he could to prevent it, making an appointment for him, taking him outside. Martyn hoped that Jimmy would snap out of this sooner or later. Psychosis was a nuanced thing. He’d done some surface level research about it. From what Jimmy had told him, he suspected him to have persecutory hallucinations. Martyn had been trying to find the cause for weeks. It probably wasn’t depression. Jimmy did hate his job, but not enough to be severely affected by it. Jimmy didn't struggle with any substance abuse, either. So what was it? Martyn exhaled, walking back to his own apartment. He’d just need to research more.
Jimmy walked up to his apartment. He was tired, he just needed some sleep. Maybe he wouldn’t dream of the Watchers this time. Jimmy leaned down at his desk and scribbled ‘September 1st: sighting of a watcher’ on a post-it note. He stapled the note to a cork board. It was his detective board, complete with colour coded string to connect his ideas. He was quite proud of it. He stood up, stretching. He really needed sleep.
Jimmy went through his usual night routine, wash his face, brush his teeth, get changed and get in bed. He put his phone on his bedside table, the alarm set for 8am. As soon as he closed his eyes, Jimmy fell asleep.
He dreamt of them again.