Work Text:
Wake up.
When Donnie comes to his senses, he sees himself in a vaguely familiar scenery and a giant bunny rabbit. He shivers, eyes widening. That might as well just be the scariest costume Donnie has ever seen in his entire life—the bizarre smile full of teeth, the glassy eyes, how uncanny everything is.
“Have no fear,” the rabbit speaks without moving his mouth and his voice is everywhere. It hammers on Donnie’s head, it buzzes in Donnie’s ears, it storms right at the pit of Donnie’s stomach.
“What the hell?” Donnie mutters, taking a step back.
“I want to show you something.”
Donnie isn’t particularly interested in what this weird looking creature has to show him and he turns around, starting to run.
“Hey? Hey!”
Donnie startles awake, blinking his eyes open and being blinded by the sunlight. He frowns, squinting his eyes as he raises his arm up to shield himself from the sun.
“What are you doing in my lawn?”
Donnie looks around, slowly starting to realize that he’s indeed lying on Mr. Wright’s lawn.
“I don’t think it’s bad to have fun and party up but you need to be careful, Donnie,” Mr. Wright nods.
Donnie turns around, using his hands to push himself up. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wright. I’m going to be careful next time.”
“All right,” Mr. Wright says. “Do you want me to drive you back home?”
“No, no. I’m fine,” Donnie mumbles as he stumbles onto the sidewalk.
Donnie grimaces slightly as he walks, feeling the warm concrete tickle his bare feet but he’s able to reach his home without any more strange things happening. He makes his way through the backgarden, seeing Samantha jumping on her trampoline like she always does.
“There he is!” the little girl exclaims, pointing at her older brother.
Before Donnie can step into his house, his mother shows up at the door.
“Where the hell were you?” Rose asks, voice trembling, as she crosses her arms.
“I was outside,” Donnie replies quietly, passing by her to get into the kitchen.
“Yes, I know you were outside,” Rose says. “I realized it the moment where I already had turned this house upside down looking for you.”
Donnie looks at his mother before opening the fridge. “I just couldn’t sleep.” He picks up the jar of water, closing the fridge, and places it on top of the counter.
“You couldn’t sleep so you just left in the middle of the night?” Rose tilts her head, raising her eyebrows.
“Elizabeth does that all the time,” Donnie argues.
“This isn’t about Elizabeth!” Rose raises her voice, uncrossing her arms and pointing a finger at Donnie. But, then, she takes a deep breath, recomposing herself. “Donnie,” she tries again, sounding softer, “just be honest.”
Donnie sighs, lowering his head while his shoulders drop. The reality is that he wants to be honest but he doesn’t know what happened himself. How can he explain to his mother that, in the middle of the night, he heard a voice telling him to wake up and so he did and he followed it until he was in a park or in the woods or something and he saw someone wearing an odd costume with an eerie bunny mask and this person told him that he wanted to show him something but he was too scared so he ran away and he might’ve fainted or hit his head somewhere as he did so because he ended up collapsing on their neighbor’s lawn.
What is his mother going to think?
She’s probably going to think he’s crazy.
Maybe he is.
Donnie lifts his head, looking at Rose. “I had trouble sleeping so I went out on a walk.”
Rose stares at him for a second. “Why would you do that?”
Donnie shrugs, turning around and taking a glass from the cupboard. “Isn’t that what people do?”
Rose takes a deep breath again. “Next time this happens, just come and talk to me.”
As if that would solve anything. “Sure, Mom.”
Donnie wakes up and sees the giant bunny rabbit again.
He flinches, starting to pull himself away.
“No,” the rabbit says, reaching and holding Donnie’s wrist. The rabbit’s claws dig into Donnie’s skin gently. “Not this time.”
Donnie’s heart is on his throat and he almost chokes. “What do you want?”
“I told you.”
I want to show you something. “And what is that?”
The rabbit looks forward and Donnie does the same thing, seeing the bright blue sky. The clouds are moving too fast, dancing in circles before they turn gray, opening up a hole and, out of a sudden, there’s a loud, screeching sound.
Donnie winces, biting his lip way too hard as he lifts his trembling hands, pressing them tightly against his ears. He closes his eyes and rapid flashes jump up in his mind. Although it’s too quick, Donnie tries to hold onto them and he ends up seeing rabbit drawings and an airplane and a door (is that a cellar?) and mailbox and a room full of water.
Real or imaginary?
The Life Line is divided into two polo extremes.
She wrote this book. It’s called The Philosophy of Time Travel.
And what if you could go back in time and take all of those hours of pain and darkness and replace them for something better?
Every living creature on Earth dies alone.
Donnie is falling.
That high-pitched noise echoes from everywhere and there are too many people inside his head and he’s falling.
“Make it stop,” he whispers, tasting the copper in his mouth.
And then everything stops.
Slowly, hesitantly, Donnie removes his hands from his ears, opening his eyes and finding himself back in the woods. Looking to his side, he sees the rabbit.
“Do you want to change things?”
“What happened to your lip?”
Donnie looks up, seeing Elizabeth. “I fell,” he mumbles.
“Where?” Rose asks.
Donnie shrugs. “At school.”
“What happened?” Eddie chimes in.
“This is nothing important,” Donnie states, slamming his hand against the dinner table. “Why don’t you guys talk about something else?”
Elizabeth frowns. “Hey, what’s the matter with you?”
“What’s the matter with you?” Donnie points at all of his family members accusingly. “I can’t do anything without having everyone start to question–”
“That’s because,” Rose tries while Elizabeth and Donnie are having their own fight, “we don’t know what’s going on with you.”
While all of this is happening, Eddie signals to Samantha to cover her ears and not pay attention to the others.
Eventually, Donnie stands up from his chair abruptly. “You are all fucking ridiculous,” he spits before leaving.
There’s a gunshot followed by the sound of shattering glass but Donnie doesn’t budge as he snorts.
“Donnie, it’s your turn now,” Ronald says.
Donnie’s eyes follow the way the old lady returns to the middle of the street.
“Hey, you jackass,” Sean calls out for Donnie, pushing him. “We didn’t bring all of this shit for you–”
“Have you guys noticed this?” Donnie asks, smirking.
“What?” Ronald and Sean say almost at the exact same time.
“Just look at her,” Donnie points at the old lady.
The three boys start watching the old lady. She doesn’t even notice that there’s a car approaching, which forces the driver to take a sharp turn.
“Holy shit,” Ronald sighs.
“Dude, that was crazy,” Sean chuckles.
“Now watch this,” Donnie mutters.
With labored, short steps, the old lady walks towards her driveway, going over her mailbox and checking something inside before closing it and returning to the middle of the street.
“What’s her problem?” Sean asks.
“I don’t know,” Donnie says, crossing his arms. “But it’s possibly something with her mailbox.” As he points this out, in the back of his head, he thinks that this should probably remind him of something.
“Oh, there she goes again,” Ronald mumbles as another car almost knocks the old lady over.
“She always gets so close to but nothing ever happens,” Sean shakes his head. “It’s like there’s a protective shield around her.”
“Yeah,” Donnie agrees, smiling lightly. “She’s Grandma Death.”
“What the fuck?”
Donnie wakes up.
“Donnie, what are you doing here?” Elizabeth asks.
Donnie blinks his eyes, slowly being able to actually see his surroundings, realizing that he’s someone else’s lawn once again.
“Did you follow me here?”
“What?” Donnie frowns, rolling to his side and bracing himself on his elbow. “No. Why would I do that?”
“So you can snitch on me to our parents like you did last time,” Elizabeth says. “Or do you think that I don’t know? I was grounded for a whole month, you moron.”
Donnie furrows his brows, shaking his head. “No, this isn’t that,” he mutters as he sits up on the grass. “I’m telling the truth.”
Elizabeth stares at her brother for a moment before her expression starts to soften. “Oh, don’t tell me. You left the house in the middle of the night again.” She tilts her head. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“I don’t know,” Donnie replies impatiently.
Elizabeth scoffs. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Donnie shrugs. “I don’t know. It just happens.”
“You’re fucking weird. Have I ever told you that before?”
“Many times.”
“Come on, now we both have to get home before Mom and Dad notice it.”
But it doesn’t work because when they reach home, their parents are already awake.
“Where were you?” Rose asks them.
“Donnie was sleepwalking again so I came to the rescue,” Elizabeth answers in one breath.
Donnie blinks.
Eddie looks at Elizabeth and then at Donnie. “Sleepwalking?”
“Yeah,” Elizabeth nods. “That’s what he does, isn’t it? Suddenly waking up in the middle of the night and going places and not remembering.”
“So that is what’s going on?” Rose raises her eyebrows.
Elizabeth shrugs. “It’s the only possible explanation.”
Donnie doesn’t know if Elizabeth was trying to help him or to push him further into his doom.
Donnie is in Mrs. Farmer’s class and he genuinely doesn’t understand the point of any of this.
He likes Miss Pomeroy’s class—that makes sense. They read a book and then they discuss it in class or they write an essay about it or they have to do some homework on it or the three things together but that’s perfect. Miss Pomeroy fulfills the role of not just teaching something but igniting something, inspiration.
Or at least that’s how Donnie feels.
He also likes Dr. Monnitoff’s class. Yes, it’s science, meaning that there’s math and formulas and equations but Donnie likes the projects where they have to come up with their own inventions or when they have to research a creation that someone else made and they have to talk about it and understand why it’s important. There’s a sense of creativity in that, and Donnie can appreciate it.
Now, Mrs. Farmer…
She tells the students to sit facing each other and wants them to write down on their notebooks compliments or things that they like about one another as a way of being ‘honest’ and ‘empathetic’ but Donnie knows that’s all bullshit. It reminds him of the books on meditation his mother is making him read because, apparently, it can help with sleepwalking but even when he tries and closes his eyes and focus on his breathing while listening to some calm music, he continues to see chaos and destruction and fire and war and the end of the world and the rabbit tells him to wake up.
It doesn’t work. It’s empty.
Donnie scoffs, shaking his head. “This is so ridiculous,” he mutters, looking up at Cherita. “Don’t you think so too?”
Cherita just stares at him.
“Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re cool,” Donnie says. “But do you think that the rest of them are going to take any of this seriously? I mean, if you don’t–”
Mrs. Farmer clears her throat. “You seem quite enthusiastic about our exercise, aren’t you, Mr. Darko?”
Do you want to change things?
Donnie turns his head, looking at his teacher. “Actually, I don’t get this.”
“It’s quite simple,” Mrs. Farmer says in that annoying gentle, high-pitched voice while she gives him a fake, polite smile. “You’re going to write down Cherita’s qualities and then you’re going to read them out loud to her. And, remember, you have to be honest.”
“Nobody is going to be honest,” Donnie shrugs. “How can you tell if someone is telling the truth and not just writing the things you want them to just so they can get out of this class as soon as possible?”
Donnie can hear some muffled laughter behind him.
“By having you to sit down in front of your classmate and having to read what you wrote out loud, it’ll break down any barriers,” Mrs. Framer replies.
“No, it won’t,” Donnie chuckles. “People stand in front of each other and tell each other lies. That happens all the time,” he nods. “Especially,” he adds, “with people they don’t like. They’re just going to pretend and move on with their lives.”
“Well,” Mrs. Farmer tilts her head, “this is an exercise for all of you to try and be sincere. To stop thinking about just yourselves and to think of the other, and how the other might be feeling.”
“You’re not listening to me,” Donnie shakes his head before he stands up. “Selfishness won’t be magically cured by going through some bullshit exercise. And what about the people who lie with good intentions? The people who think that lying will spare someone else’s peace of mind? It’s very nuanced, life isn’t black and white. This is nothing,” he hits his notebook with the back of his hand, “Mrs. Farmer, nothing. No one is going to learn anything and will continue to be self-centered because you’re a terrible fucking teacher.”
Apparently, Mrs. Farmer talked to Principal Cole and Principal Cole called his mother and told everything that happened (Donnie knows that Mrs. Farmer most likely used dramatic words just to make it seem that all that occurred was much bigger and more intense than it actually was because she’s a liar) and his mother talked to his father and now his mother and father are sitting next to him on the couch and they’re having a serious conversation.
“You sleepwalk,” Rose starts, “you’re becoming more irritable as the days go by and, just today, you had a fight with your teacher.”
“Well, I do think that when some people start to bother you, sometimes, all that is left for you to do is–” Eddie stops talking when Rose pokes him firmly.
“Donnie, what is happening with you?” Rose asks. “I thought that meditation would at least calm you down but now I’m running out of solutions because I can’t help you if you can’t help me first.”
“I…I don’t know what’s going on either,” Donnie admits.
Eddie frowns. “What do you mean?”
“I…I just don’t know,” Donnie shakes his head, squeezing his knees. “I wish I could tell you. I wish I could understand but…things are changing.” He looks at his parents with widened, teary eyes. “Things are changing.”
Wake up, Donnie.
Opening his eyes, he sees himself in a house. It looks abandoned.
“Burn it,” the rabbit orders him.
“Why?”
“Because you need to learn.”
And that’s all Donnie needs.
“This is the last straw!” Rose states angrily while she drives Donnie back home from jail. “How come you burn a house, Donnie?”
“It was abandoned,” Donnie shrugs.
“It doesn’t matter. You still went to jail, didn’t you?” Rose stares at him sharply before focusing back on the road. “Now you got held back in school, won’t be able to drive anytime soon.” She exhales heavily, shaking her head. “Was it worth it? Tell me, was it worth it?”
Donnie stays quiet because there isn’t anything he can say that will work in his favor.
“I tried to be patient. I tried to be understanding,” Rose says. “But I see that there’s nothing I can do. You’ll be seeing a therapist. It’s going to start next week.”
Ronald and Sean are actually dying from laughter.
“Dude, you burned down a house,” Ronald says in awe. “Like, that’s so fucking rad.”
“You actually have the balls,” Sean nods proudly. “So, you gotta have a smoke.” He pulls out a cigarette pack from his pocket.
“I’m going to go to therapy because of it,” Donnie mumbles, not being as enthusiastic about it as his friends.
Ronald and Sean look at him as if he’s told them he’s crazy.
Maybe he is.
Donnie feels a familiar tension and he’s so sick of it.
“This is all your fault!” he screams at the rabbit. “My parents can’t understand me. My family thinks I’m insane. Even my friends. Everybody does,” he says, gesturing exasperatedly. “You only show me terrible, fucked up things. I can’t be normal because of you. I don’t even have a chance. I fucking hate you!”
In an impulse, he lifts his arm, closing his hand in a tight fist and pushes forward, however he doesn’t punch the rabbit, he punches a…wall and it ricochets, creating a wave of sorts and pushing Donnie backwards.
“What the fuck?” Donnie mutters.
“I’m just trying to teach you.”
“Teach me what?”
“The ways into the future.”
Donnie takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “You don’t make any fucking sense. You’re abhorrent.”
The rabbit slowly lowers his head, as if he’s…sad.
Donnie clenches his jaw, swallowing as he recomposes himself. Maybe he might’ve gone too far. But what is ‘too far’ in this incomprehensible situation?
“What’s your name?” Donnie finally asks.
“Frank,” Frank the rabbit replies.
“Frank,” Donnie mumbles, “are you here to ruin my life?”
“Who’s Frank?”
Donnie flinches and looks to his side, seeing his little sister standing by his bedroom door. He didn’t leave it open.
“What?” Donnie frowns. “What…what are you talking about?”
“You were talking to someone,” Samantha says.
“I was talking to no one. I was just getting ready to go to sleep.”
“I heard you,” Samantha claims, like the little nosy thing she is. “You were screaming.”
Donnie can’t deal with this tonight.
“Hearing voices, Samantha?” he hums, smiling wryly as he makes his way towards her. “Hm, that’s no good.” He reaches out, holding her shoulder. “Maybe Mom and Dad should get you a therapist as well.”
He pushes her into the hallway before closing the door.
Dr. Lilian Thurman’s office isn’t all that bad, actually. There’s a board and stuffed animals and nice paintings on the walls.
“Tell me about your day,” Dr. Thurman says.
Please, God, take me from here. “...I went to school.”
“And what did you do in school?”
“I went to class.”
“Do you like the classes at your school?”
Donnie shrugs. “They’re all right, I guess.”
Dr. Thurman tilts her head. “Do you like school?”
“Not really.”
“What don’t you like about it?”
Donnie lifts his hand, palm up, and closes it, as if trying to grasp what he’s thinking in his head. “Everything’s fake. Like, it’s not real. The people, the teachers…Most of the time, it feels like a facade. Sometimes, I’m sitting in class and I look around and…” he gestures with his hands, shaking his head, “it just doesn’t feel real.”
Donnie wishes he could keep his mouth shut sometimes.
After seeing Dr. Thurman for two weeks, she has prescribed him some pills he needs to take.
“Uh, this is the medicine,” Donnie says as he gives his mother a piece of paper.
Rose looks at the piece of paper in her hands. “And what is it for?”
“To calm me down,” Donnie lies. It’s because Dr. Thurman thinks Donnie is losing grasp of reality and says that this medicine will be able to ground him.
Donnie is standing in the bathroom.
He opens the cabinet and finds the medicine bottle with his name on it and opens it up, popping the pill into his mouth and swallowing it.
Maybe he’ll be able to fall asleep tonight.
“Stop it. I’m taking pills now,” Donnie says as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It’ll only stop once everything is fulfilled and the universe is back in order,” Frank tells him.
Donnie pulls his hand down, turning his head and looking at Frank. “And when will that be?”
“Soon,” Frank nods. “Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?”
“A storm is approaching,” Frank warns. “But if you follow my steps, everyone is going to be saved.”
Donnie scowls. “Am I going to go to jail this time?”
“You have to believe me.”
Donnie shifts on the bed, sitting on the edge and leaning himself forward. He raises a hand, pointing at Frank. “Speak in simple terms for me just this time: what is going to happen?”
“The apocalypse.”
The pills don’t work.
The pills don’t work because Frank isn’t a hallucination. He is…another thing. And he’ll only fully disappear once the universe returns back in order, so Donnie has to believe. At least for this moment, this once, during this time period, Donnie needs to believe Frank.
He doesn’t want to go to jail again.
He doesn’t want to upset his parents again.
He just wants to do something good. Like, save the world.
There is the sound of thunder in the distance and Donnie wakes up, seeing himself on a mountain road just minutes before the sun rises.
He stands up, chuckling to himself before picking his bicycle up, hopping on it and pedalling his way back home.
Stepping into the kitchen, he sees Where is Donnie? written in the fridge magnetic board.
Wake up.
This time, when Donnie sees Frank, he smiles.
“Twenty-eight days, six hours, forty-two minutes, twelve seconds,” Frank says. “That is when the world will end.”
Donnie’s smile widens. “Why?”
“I’m sorry about that, Jim. He’s just a neighborhood kid.”
Donnie looks down at himself, seeing 28:06:42:12 written on his forearm.
“Are you all right, son?”
“I’m sorry, Dr. Fisher. Won’t happen again,” Donnie mutters.
He’s become used to the feeling of the warm concrete under his bare feet. He might be growing thicker skin because of it. He doesn’t know if that’s good or bad but it’s not as if Frank gives him a heads up before forcibly making him wake up and dragging him out of his house for whatever reason.
Reaching his street, he sees police cars and an ambulance and several neighbors standing on the road, looking at his house with curious eyes.
Maybe there was a reason for Frank to drag him out of his house this time.
Glancing up, he sees a crane removing a jet engine from his house.
“Wait a minute. Here’s your brother,” Eddie says and everybody lets out a sigh of relief.
“It fell in your room,” Samantha lets Donnie know.
“They don’t know where it came from,” Elizabeth whispers into Donnie’s ear.
But there’s a scratch in the back of Donnie’s head, a pressure in his chest and a stirring in his stomach that makes him feel that this is only the beginning of the end.