Chapter Text
It's all Taylor’s fault anyway.
It was his stupid idea to explore this stupid building and now, as Normal sits huddled in the corner shaking, phone flashlight held high, he thinks to himself; it's all Taylor's fault anyway.
The darkness creeps round corners here, inky fingers curling and probing, sneaking up behind Normal like it knows he's there. Norm remembers, in his fear-frozen state, tales from his childhood that his Mama told him, of boogeymen and phantoms, creatures that lurk in the night, ready to leap out of the shadows at petrified teenagers exploring abandoned hospitals at 2am. It doesn't help.
Norm tries to focus on the steady drip from the leak in the corner, rhythmic tap of droplets on concrete. He counts them, paces his breaths as best he can, tries to calm his hiccuping breaths and still the tears leaving saline tracks down his face. Each creaking beam, whistling doorframe and shifting tree presses him farther into the wall, eyes closed tight, stifled sobs filling his head.
Footsteps from down the hall. Norm hugs his knees to his chest, fumbles to turn his phone light off as they approach, shuffling and kicking aside some discarded beer bottle.
The door creaks open.
‘Norm?’ a hushed voice calls through the darkness, and Norm’s shoulders relax, sobs coming freely now, echoing off the derelict tiles. Hermie rushed over to him, mask hanging off his ear, hair falling from his ponytail. He’s haloed by the light from Scary’s torch, her face hidden in shadow. Normal bats away the offered hand and stands, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
‘Where- did- you- go!’ he hisses, jabbing a finger in Hermie’s chest. ‘You left me to get- murdered! By some deranged psychotic druggie!’ Normal’s voice is rising dangerously.
‘I’m sorry, Normal.’ Hermie says, voice smooth like butter, rich like expensive velvet, honeyed and flowing. God, he loves that voice. He could listen to it all day, and damn if it doesn’t help him calm down. ‘I just- it was so dark, and we thought you’d left already. We should have double checked. I won’t let you out of my sight till we leave, I promise.’
Normal nods, dries his eyes and brushes off his trousers, grabbing his bag. ‘Don’t you dare leave me again, okay?’
‘Okay.’
Now the all-consuming panic has left him, Normal can appreciate this place better. He was sitting in a surgery, trays of utensils still left out. There’s a huge swinging light like you get in dentist’s offices in the centre of the room, and the grey-blue tiles on the walls are decaying, cracked where some reckless idiot has smashed at them with a bat.
Hermie approaches an operating table below the big light, rusted metal and thin sheets gleaming harshly under the light from their phones. Scary is rooting around in some drawers and emerges with a yellow bag marked ‘BIOWASTE’. Vials of thick, viscous liquid move like slime inside. Hypodermic needles litter the corners of the room, shattered vials of- something- smashed on the floor. Normal gingerly picks up an intact bottle with a large green label.
‘Amoxicillin.’ He reads aloud, breaking the silence. ‘Take two per day, one with breakfast and one with dinner. Dissolve in 200ml water.’ He turns the bottle to read the back of the bottle, shakes it. There’s still something in it. He drops it to the floor, disinterested, moving to investigate the blackened patches of wallpaper in the corner while adjusting his mask.
‘Smells like amphetamines in here.’ Hermie notes, kicking the Amoxicillin bottle across the floor, passing it back and forth with Scary.
‘How do you know what that smells like?’ Scary jokes, doing kip-ups with the bottle before flicking it back over to him. Hermie doesn’t reply, just stops the bottle with his foot.
‘Let’s keep moving.’ He says, with a forced lightness. Norm and Scary share a look, but don’t push it.
They meander through rooms, joking lightheartedly and reading increasingly more concerning labels for medicine.
‘Listen to this!’ Scary crows, a laugh at her lips. ‘Nitrofurantoin. Take 100mg per day before bed. Side effects may include: headaches, excess urination, yellowish sclera and- get this- fluorescent piss!’ They all crack up, Scary replacing the bottle on it’s shelf, and they leave the room chuckling. They’re about to close the door when the shelf gives way, dropping around a hundred vials of assorted meds to the floor, some smashing on contact, others bouncing and rolling to a stop in the corner.
‘That was loud.’ Normal says in barely a whisper.
‘Bet Linc and Taylor heard tha-‘ Hermie can’t even finish his sentence before Lincoln is there, skidding round the corner, Taylor in hot pursuit. Lincoln dashes up to them, enfolding Scary in a hug, pulling her away from the danger- but then he spots it, releasing her with a breath.
‘How did that happen?’ Taylor asks, puffing and panting, leant against the doorframe trying to catch his breath. They recount the tale with a laugh, Hermie lagging behind to kick the mass of small silver containers back into the room before slamming the door closed and catching up.
Their little crew has been searching for something like this to do for a while now. Since they got back from the UK, they had the rest of the summer to kill, and surprisingly Taylor was the one who suggested the urbex.
It was a pretty standard sleepover at Lincoln’s, The Princess Bride (Normal’s favourite film) onscreen when Taylor brought it up. It seemed like a cool idea, and supposedly he has spotted a cool building a little while out of own down some dirt road. He refused to tell them how he knew about it. Regardless, they all agreed to go the next weekend at midnight.
They arrived at Taylor’s with bags of snacks, masks they unearthed from their parent’s attics (Sparrow went very pale when Normal asked him about that) and close-fitting clothes. Scary drove them there while Taylor informed them all about the ‘etiquette’ for urbexing: pretty basic stuff, don’t break stuff, leave it as you found it, get in and out unnoticed and stay together.
Obviously, that last bit didn’t go so well, but as they make their way out through a broken window and climb back into Terry’s car (loaned to them with a knowing smile and a baseball bat in the boot that only Lincoln wanted for defense), they are all smiling and joking, Lincoln bagging shotgun just so he can hold his girlfriend’s hand, though he claims it’s for the extra leg space.
‘We should come back sometime!’ Scary laughs.
‘No!’ Taylor snaps. The group goes quiet, looking puzzled at his sudden change in demeanor. ‘We have to go somewhere new!’
The car journey back is filled with ideas, new places to go. Lincoln admits his grandfather Darryl’s old church closed down in 2028, and he’s pretty sure it’s still there.
‘Not sure. But if we go, we’re going in better prepared. No more relying on phone signal- we’re bringing radios this time. And NOBODY is breaking anything. This place means something to my grandpop.’ Everyone nods assent.
They all climb out of the car at Taylor’s, sneaking back up to his room and slumping forwards onto their respective beds (Lincoln and Scary on his pull-out sofa, Taylor in his bed and Normal and Hermie on the floor). Scary excuses herself to wash her hair, and the boys all change into their pyjamas. Norm can’t help how his eyes catch on the horrific scarring that disfigures Hermie’s otherwise attractive body. It’s gruesome, really, and he feels awful every time he sees it. An awful reminder of another time he failed to protect his friends from the Oak family failures, his conscious taunts as Hermie folds up his jumper, softly clinking as he tucks it away in his bag.
Still, Norm thinks, as they drift off to sleep next to each other, hands entwined, it’s not all bad. At least they have each other to help with these things.