Chapter Text
The clock ticks ever so slowly. It's nearing the end of your shift and you fight to stay awake every time you blink. All you can do to entertain yourself is watch the clock and count down how much time is left until you can finally head home. Six minutes. 5 and a half minutes. 5 minutes. 4 and a- *ding*
The automatic doors slide open. Great, a costumer. A familiar one, though. He walks in, you immediately recognize his wild black rat's nest of hair and slouched posture. That creep. You lean on the counter and shake your head. "Hi, You! It's been so long!" he's as excited as ever to see you.
"A day."
"So long!!"
"Need anything?"
You're so unbelievably tired, you can't even pretend to be glad to see a customer right now, no matter who they are. "Oh, I just wanted to see you!" he clasps his hands next to his face.
"That's nice."
You stare at each other for an uncomfortably long time.
30 seconds left. You start to put your bag over your shoulder. "Are you leaving now?" he asks, tilting his head.
"Was just about to."
"Oh, I'll get out of your way!"
He quickly walks out of the gas station, still smiling. Such a weirdo. He's kind of cute, though. Not really. He's been visiting you at work and on the bus for weeks, now. With his strange behavior, you can't really tell if he's trying to befriend you or murder you. You try to give him grace, though. He's just a regular guy trying to integrate with society. Poor dude probably still doesn't know how to make friends. Not that you're any better at it. Maybe you two would get along if you gave him a shot. It doesn't help that he only comes up to you when you're exhausted as hell.
You walk out of the building, locking up behind you. No sight of Doe anywhere. Maybe he went home - does he have a home? You catch your bus and nearly fall asleep on the ride home. You almost forget your bag as you get up from your seat. You closely dodged falling on your face as you step off the bus. You need some sleep. You trudge your way to the front door of your apartment. It's unlocked. That's weird. It's not unlike you to forget to lock it, though, especially early in the morning. You step inside and hang up your jacket and bag. Once your things are hung up neatly, you turn around to meet Doe's eyes with yours. You scream and fall back, your heart racing. You scramble to run (though it looked more like a crawl) out the door. Your shaky hands fumble around, grasping for the doorknob and once you turn it, you book it out of the doorway. You're stopped in your track, though, a hand has grabbed your shirt and is pulling you back inside. You try to reach your arms behind your back to claw at Doe's hand, you keep trying to run, to no avail. Out of desperation, you try to squirm out of your shirt. You're so close to freeing yourself as one of your wrists is grabbed by his other hand. You're screaming, crying, trying to wiggle out of his grip. You fail. You're pulled completely back inside and the door is shut behind you. John Doe drops you onto the floor and squats in front of you. He puts a finger to his lips. "Shhh..."
You kick and struggle, but you can't find a way to get around him. "Please, let me talk!" he asks.
At this point, you feel like you have no other option. You nod, your eyes still rapidly pushing out tears, contorting your face. "I just wanted to visit you, to surprise you... To scare you! Do you like being scared?"
You vigorously shake your head, afraid to utter a word. "Oh, okay... Well, I'm happy to see you again!"
You don't know what to do. You didn't actually think he was going to murder you, but now you're sure he will. He covers his hand with his sweater and reaches his arm out to wipe the tears off your cheek with his thumb. You freeze at his touch. Oh god, please just don't kill me... "I didn't know you would react like this," he says.
You're surprised at his sincerity, though you still believe he's a cold-hearted psycho. He places his hand on your shoulder and falls on his knees to be closer to you. Your tears have cleared, you're no longer panicked, you're in shock. Now that you can clearly see, you take a look at his face. He has the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face. He's almost shaking with excitement. This is definitely some sick freak. In your apartment. Touching you. You gently try to push him away, fearing how he'll react. He just sits back. You stand up. He follows. "I want you to... Can you leave... Please?" you manage to stutter.
"Oh! Oh, okay..." he looks disappointed, as if you had just rejected a proposal, "Can I... Come back tomorrow?"
You don't know what to say. No, he can't. What the hell? This entire situation is so dizzying and fragile, and you don't want to end up dead. You decide to nod slowly, "Just don't break in, okay? Please knock."
"Okay!" his entire demeanor changes, he becomes happy in an instant and leaves your apartment, "Don't forget to lock! If you want to!"
Honestly, you did need the reminder. You feel sick. You just invited that freak into your home. You want to take a shower, you want to peel off the entire layer of skin he touched, but you feel like you physically can't. You're exhausted. You think you would fall asleep, slip, and drown. So instead, you slip under your covers and fall asleep there. Somehow, after everything that has just happened, you manage to sleep soundly.
It's 8:30am. Your alarm has been blaring for an hour and a half. You rub your eyes, stretch, and begrudgingly climb out of bed. "God... I'm gonna call in sick..." you whisper to yourself.
You know your boss will be unbelievably pissed at you, but you don't want to explain what happened last night to him of all people. On that note, you should probably tell someone about this, you know, in case you need a funeral planned. You grab your phone from the bedside table and scroll through your contacts, debating who to call. Your mom? You've barely spoken since you moved into the Uncanny Valley. One of your old friends from home? They've surely forgotten about you. Ehhhh, you probably won't die, right? You just end up sending your boss an email calling in sick.
You toss your phone onto your bed and get up to brush your teeth and take a quick shower. You get dressed and walk out into the kitchen to make breakfast. As you walk towards the front of your apartment, you hear knocking from your front door. Really? This early? You're not ready for this. It sounds like he's been standing there knocking for a while. He can wait a bit more, right? Not wanting to make too much noise, you grab a slice of bread from your pantry. You don't even toast it, you just shove it in your mouth. Once you've eaten, you stand in the middle of your kitchen, listening to the constant knocking, trying to prepare yourself for whatever is going to happen next. You slowly inch towards the front door. You make sure the chain is attached to the door and open it just a sliver. "Yes?" you ask.
Doe's eyes light up. "Hi! I knocked!"
"I heard. How long were you out here?" you can't help but be curious.
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe an hour or two."
He acts like that's completely normal. "Why did you want to come back?"
"Just to spend time with you!"
...He doesn't seem to be lying. He genuinely looks happy to be here. Honestly, you have nothing better to do. Forgetting everything you know about survival, you close the door to take the chain off and open it again to let him in. "Thanks for waiting."
"Of course!"
He walks into your apartment. You don't know what to do. You both awkwardly stand in the middle of the kitchen. "Make yourself at home?" you say, he is a guest, after all.
He sits on your couch. "Can we watch TV?" he asks.
We?? Why not? You walk over and grab the remote. You sit on the opposite side of the couch from him, trying to keep as much distance as possible. "What do you want to watch?"
"Whatever you do!"
You just turn on the TV and leave on the channel that it was left on. The second the screen lights up, Doe is consumed. His eyes wide, he leans forward, focus locked on the TV. Weirdo. "I'm gonna make breakfast, okay? Do you... want some?"
You aren't still very hungry, but you want an excuse to get away from this creepy ass freak. His focus immediately switches from the screen to you, "Oh! Okay!"
Seemingly no longer interested in the TV, he watches you as you grab a few eggs from the fridge to cook. "Do you care how I make them?"
"However you'd like!"
The more time he spends in your apartment, the less likely you feel he is to be a killer. You scramble the eggs and serve them on two paper plates. You place the plates on the counter and sit at a barstool on the other side. "You can come eat whenever you'd like," you tell him.
He isn't even watching the TV, but it seems to take a little bit for him to process that you're inviting him to sit next to you. He gets up and eagerly walks over to sit on the stool next to you. You gesture towards his plate. He looks over to how you're eating, like it's his first time sharing a meal with somebody else. Now that you think of it, it probably is his first time. He takes his fork and fumbles around with it, not knowing how to hold it properly. He does only have four fingers, after all. The pathetic sight softens your view of him. "Need some help there, bud?"
He nods, embarrassed. You hold your fork closer to him, showing him where to put each finger. He doesn't get it. Hesitantly, you reach for his hand, manually placing his fingers where they should go. His skin is oddly warm, if he was human, you'd think he has a bad fever. He jumps at your touch, his body begins to give off even more warmth. You think it's cute how he's not used to interacting with anyone, he doesn't know what to do with himself. "There, you just hold it like that..."
You surprise yourself with the gentle tone in your voice, your hand hovering over his, your head turned to talk into his ...ear? Oh god, this thing has no ears.
Doe seems to be waiting for you to take a bite first, so you do. He follows, shakily moving the fork to his mouth. You think he's trying to slow himself down, but you're not sure. You try to eat faster to show him that he can. Once he notices, he gobbles down his food. Only halfway through your meal, you ask, "Want anymore?"
He perks up at your question. He nods,"If that's okay!"
"Wanna finish mine? Or should I make some more?"
He's very intrigued by this suggestion. "You don't want any more? You've hardly eaten!"
Not wanting to admit to keeping him waiting at the door, you respond, "I, uh... I'm just not very hungry this morning."
You push your plate towards him. He lights up at your gesture. He looks like you've just offered him a one in a lifetime deal, too good to be true, so he has to double check, "You don't mind?"
"I really don't."
His smile widens, he horses the eggs down. He seems to be enjoying your plate much more than he did his. A little odd, but aren't we all? Maybe this really means something to regular guys, who knows. Once he's finished, you stand up and grab both your plates. You toss them and place the forks in the sink, you'd rather die than rinse off dishes at this hour. Doe is still sitting on his stool. You lean against the fridge, facing him. "So... have anything in mind you wanna do?"
He looks up at you and shakes his head. "Have any favorite movies or anything?" you ask.
He ponders for a moment, then answers, "I like it when they play the weather channel in stores, but I'm inside now. I don't really need to worry about rain, right?"
...
Huh? His response confuses you. He likes TV so much, but he only watches it in public? Maybe he really doesn't have a home. And he thinks he doesn't have to worry about rain? Does he plan on leaving??
"But I can see how it's boring if you don't need to care about that," he continues, "I also like the show where the guys look for animals in the woods at night."
Is he talking about one of those cryptid hunting shows? "Oh! Something I've been wanting to see is that movie with the clown guy! I see the trailers all the time but it never gets played anywhere. I think that's because it had blood and it might scare babies."
"There are a lot of scary clown movies out there, you might wanna be more specific."
"Oh, but you don't like being scared, right? Hmmm..."
He brings a finger to his chin and looks to the side in thought. You didn't expect him to actually care when he asked you last night. "We can do something else if we can't think of anything to watch," you say, "Why don't we take a walk?"
You can't tell if being in semi-public with him would make you feel relief, since you're still not fully convinced he isn't a maniac. It would at least get him out of your apartment. "Okay!"