The Supers

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The Supers Page 12

by Sean Michael


  “Yes. Otherwise he’d be sleeping in his old room.”

  “Don’t worry, Mrs. King. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. Or if it does, I’ll make sure we get back here right away.”

  “We’re going to get the barn fumigated,” Mom insisted.

  “If that’s where it happened.” Flynn met Blaine’s eyes, and Blaine could see his own doubts in Flynn’s.

  “Well, where else? You two haven’t been exploring anywhere freaky, have you?”

  Blaine immediately shook his head. “Nope. Nowhere we haven’t been a hundred times.”

  “That’s what I figured. I’m having your father call the exterminator today.”

  “Are we going to have to go to a hotel for a few days?” Flynn asked.

  “Of course not. You boys can both stay at the house with us as long as you need to.”

  “Thanks, ma’am.”

  “Oh please, call me Anna.” She patted Flynn’s arm. “I’m going to go make sure your father is okay. Maybe get some coffee. You boys okay here?”

  “We’re fine. I’ve got him. I promise.”

  Mom looked at Blaine, then at Flynn, and her eyes got wide for a second. She smiled. “Well, good deal. I’m glad of that.”

  Flynn’s cheeks reddened, and he ducked his head. Once Mom was gone, Flynn met Blaine’s gaze. “Oh man. She knows.”

  “She does.” She was cool with Blaine being gay. So was Pop. He knew how lucky he was, and he never let himself forget it.

  Flynn grinned. “I guess it’s real, then, huh? No going back now that the folks know.” Flynn moved closer, and the heat from his body seeped into Blaine.

  “I’m a little wigged. Promise you’ll stay here.”

  God, he was a needy bastard.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Flynn said. “I promise. Especially now that your folks know. I won’t feel like they think I’m being a jerk for sticking close and keeping them from being in here with you.”

  “Room 204.”

  Seriously, what the fuck?

  “Room 204.”

  “Did you hear that?”

  “Hear what, babe?”

  “What if there’s bugs in my brain? Making me hear things?” What if the hospital was inside him now? What if they were in him? His heart rate began to speed up, the beeping of the monitors getting louder.

  “Hey, hey, you’re fine. You need to breathe, okay? Take some deep, even breaths. Come on. You gotta relax or you’re going to get the staff here all upset.”

  Sure enough, the nurse came back, frowning at the monitors, then at him.

  “I have orders to give him an antianxiety med, and we’re going to administer a vermifacient as well.”

  “A what?” What the hell?

  “It’s just a precaution.”

  Flynn had his phone out, but he shrugged. “I’m just seeing mentions of it in medical journal articles.” He turned to the nurse. “Is the vermifacient because of the bug? Because if you’ve got something for that, it would really help set him at ease.”

  The nurse had pushed the meds into his IV already, and he could feel quiet fall over him like a blanket.

  “Yes, exactly. Just in case, we’re making sure nothing else is in there.”

  “There you go. They’re on it.” Flynn had his hand now, holding on tight and stroking Blaine’s knuckles with his free hand.

  He found that he didn’t really care. He was floating, wrapped in cotton wool.

  “That’s calmed you down nicely.” The nurse’s voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away. “The doctor will get to you as soon a she can. In the meantime, your shoulder has been covered, so you can lie back against the pillows and relax.”

  The sensation of moving was huge. Then all he could see was the ceiling tiles. And Flynn’s head. Flynn’s huge, disembodied head.

  “You’re okay, Blaine. It’s just the meds.”

  “Room 204,” he muttered. “You have to promise me.”

  Flynn frowned. “You mean at the hospital? Okay. Okay, I promise. We’ll check it out, man.”

  “No. No more. You can’t ever.” Never.

  “What are you talking about, Blaine?” The bed dipped as Flynn sat next to him, close and warm. “What happened in room 204? Has that got something to do with what’s going on?”

  “Promise me.” He grabbed his lover’s hand. “Please, David. I can’t lose you again.”

  Chapter Ten

  OH man. Blaine was losing it. Calling Flynn David. Telling him to stay out of room 204 like there was something there. If there was, though, why wouldn’t Blaine want them all to go check the room out? Come to think of it, Blaine had been really insistent that they stay off the second floor altogether. Which was weird because on their initial walk-through, Blaine had taken him up there—all that funny echoing of his laughter and voice had filled the hallway and the stairwell. Then Blaine had directed the guys to set up the stop-motion cameras on the second floor. Why would he have done that if he didn’t want them in that room?

  Flynn had done some looking shit up on his phone while he was in the waiting room too. The bug he’d taken out of Blaine—and fuck, that was still the grossest thing ever—looked like a maggot. The thing was, flies didn’t lay their eggs in live flesh, and they didn’t lay just a single one. Considering the bite mark had looked human, it was almost as if someone dead had bitten Blaine and transferred the single maggot to Blaine’s body that way.

  Just thinking about it made him want to throw up a little, so Flynn shook the thoughts from his head and gave Blaine a reassuring smile. “David won’t go into room 204. I promise.” There. He wouldn’t be breaking the promise if they went back to the hospital and wound up checking out room 204—which he was kind of thinking they ought to. The thing was, would Blaine ask him who the hell David was?

  “Good. Good. There’s nothing but death there. Nothing but death for us.”

  Flynn didn’t know if this was something new or how Blaine always was. It almost felt like Blaine was transmitting something from the other side. He was going to have to ask the guys if anything like this had ever happened with Blaine before. Speaking of the guys, Flynn figured he could ask them what was up with room 204. Had they found anything in their research pertaining to it?

  He patted Blaine’s good shoulder, then texted the guys. any research on rm 204? need intel

  Will answered first. u mean hspital? Ask B

  Flynn rolled his eyes. He totally would if he didn’t think all he’d get as an answer was more of that blind panic.

  cant. documentation? Surely they had files for everything, and that would contain anything they’d found out about the hospital.

  Just in case, he turned back to Blaine and asked carefully, “So… room 204. What’s the story there?”

  “Story?” Blaine blinked at him. “What story?”

  “Yeah. You know, the research. What did it tell you about room 204?” Flynn kept his voice even, not wanting to get Blaine all worked up again. Besides, he didn’t think he’d get any info if he got Blaine all het up.

  “There’s something upstairs. Something sad.”

  “Oh yeah? Somebody died?” That would make sense—it was a hospital after all. People died there all the time.

  “I don’t know. They don’t talk to me. You can’t go up there. It’s dangerous.”

  “Who doesn’t talk to you, babe?” He stroked Blaine’s belly. “You need to talk to me. You need to tell me who doesn’t talk to you and why it’s dangerous in room 204.”

  “You can’t go up there. Never ever. That’s where you die.”

  Flynn gasped. “Where I die? Are you prescient too?” Nobody had told him Blaine could tell the future.

  “You already did, David. You did, and it’s all my fault.”

  Oh man. David again. Who did Blaine think he was? Who did Blaine think he was?

  “Hey. Can you tell me your name?” He asked the question suddenly, hoping to shock Blaine a little.
/>
  “Christian.” The name fell from Blaine’s lips as he dozed off.

  Jesus Christ.

  Fuckadoodle doo.

  And holy shit.

  Blaine thought he was someone called Christian and that Flynn was David. What the hell? Was it because of the bug? Had it done something to Blaine’s brain? Or was this possession? There had been something odd with Blaine back at the ER in the hospital the other day, like someone else was talking through him.

  Flynn’s fingers were trembling as he sent another text out. really need 2 know re rm204 & anyone called Christian or David

  This time Jason answered. utalkingbout the suicide gay guys?

  Whoa. What? suicide gay guys????????

  yeah. Long story. Tell you l8r

  He hit Contacts on his phone and called Jason.

  “I need to know now,” he told Jason. “I need the whole story.”

  “Why? It’s ancient. It’s like from the eighties, man.”

  “Because something weird is happening with Blaine, and I need to know the whole story right now. Just tell me, okay?” Flynn touched Blaine’s arm, needing the connection.

  “Blaine? What’s wrong with him? Do you guys need help?”

  “We’re at the hospital. He’s fine. Sedated. Bite gone wrong. I need to know about the suicide gay guys. Were they Christian and David?”

  “Bite? You bit him?”

  He slapped his forehead.

  “Bug bite! Jesus, Jason. Just tell me already.”

  “Jeez. Okay! There was a dude with brain cancer, and his lover, David, wanted to stay with him, but the family sucked rocks and wouldn’t let him. The Christian guy begged and begged, and finally a sister or an aunt or someone smuggled him in, but it was too late. The guy died like minutes before, and the David dude shot himself right there in the room or something. Creepy shit. Romeo and Juliet-y, but not.”

  “Shit, that’s awful. It was room 204 that it happened in, wasn’t it? You guys ever get any hits off the room before?” Was Blaine possessed by Christian’s ghost? Was that what was going on here?

  “Uh. Maybe? I mean, I don’t really know. We tend to film downstairs ’cause it’s safer.”

  “Okay. Cool. Cool. Hey, did you see anything bite Blaine while we were out at the hospital?”

  “Like what? Is that why he freaked so bad?”

  “I guess. I don’t know. But something laid an egg in there, and it hatched into this ugly… well, it was gross, and now he’s being pumped full of antibiotics and shit.” He didn’t want to make more of the whole thing than it was, but frankly between the bug and Blaine calling him David and saying his own name was Christian and there being a suicide gay couple… well, he was more than a little freaked.

  “Ew. Do you need me to come up? I’m at work, but I’ll take off. Darnell’s off today, I think.”

  The offer made him smile. They were a solid group, good guys. Great friends.

  “Nah, his folks are here, and they just gave him the really good drugs, and he’s sleeping. The doc is supposed to send him home after taking a look at it. I’ll send you a text when they spring him and you could come over and have some beers.”

  “Sure. I’ll let all the guys know. We’ll bring pizza.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks, man. I’ll let Blaine know when he wakes up. He’ll be pleased.”

  “Sure. Keep me posted.” The line went dead, and Flynn sat there, mind spinning.

  What the hell was going on? What the everloving fuck? Seriously.

  Flynn was worried. Big-time. He just hoped that when Blaine woke up, he knew he was Blaine.

  Chapter Eleven

  BLAINE felt like cotton-wrapped, hammered shit, but at least he felt like cotton-wrapped, hammered shit at home.

  The exterminator had come, pronounced the barn clean, and gone, and he was on his couch, three butterfly bandages on his shoulder and Flynn staring at him like he was going to explode in a ball of pus any moment.

  “How are you feeling?” Flynn asked, coming closer.

  “Glad to be home. Sorry for all the drama.” They’d been at the ER for damn near twenty-four hours.

  “That’s okay. Hey, how do you spell your name? They were asking at the hospital and….”

  “What? Like Blaine or Franks? Because neither one is particularly unusual.”

  “Well, no, I guess not.” Flynn sighed. “You told me at the hospital that your name was Christian. And you called me David.”

  “I was dreaming, I bet. They had me all looptastic.” Christian? He was totally not pure and light.

  Flynn frowned. “What does that mean?”

  “Huh? That I was dreaming or high on pain meds?”

  Flynn tilted his head. “I guess…. And because you knew about the guys in room 204, you used their names.”

  “What? What guys?” Don’t you go up there. You promised.

  “Jason told me about the research about Christian and David and how one of them was sick and the family wouldn’t let the other one in the hospital, and he died, and the other one killed himself. Those guys.”

  “Yeah. Lots of folks die in the hospital, Flynn. That’s what happens.”

  “Yeah, well, you started calling me David and making me promise not to go to room 204, and when I asked who you were, you said Christian. I guess there’s been enough weird stuff going on that it freaked me out, and I thought you were being possessed by a ghost.” Flynn looked pretty sheepish.

  “That would be deeply fucked up.”

  “Yeah, no shit.”

  Blaine grinned. “I promise to warn you if I’m possessed if you swear to remove any weird bugs from my skin.”

  “It’s a deal.” Flynn held out his hand, and they shook. “This whole thing really is fucked up, isn’t it? I don’t know whether I want to wrap everything up and never go back there or really start looking into it.”

  “It’s just coincidence, I bet. Seriously.”

  “Yeah? Probably. So we should go back next weekend and check out room 204, be sure there’s nothing there to find.”

  “Next weekend?” No way. No fucking way. “If my shoulder is closed up all the way, huh?”

  “God yeah, for sure. We can go the next weekend that you’re up for it, eh?” Flynn touched his shoulder. “How’s it feeling, anyway?”

  “Numb. Weirdly numb.” Dead was what he thought, but he wouldn’t say it.

  “Let me see.” Flynn helped him get out of his T-shirt. “Wow, it’s looking so much better than it was.” Flynn touched gently. “And it isn’t hot anymore.”

  “Good. It itched like fire before, you know?”

  “I know. It looked awful too.” Flynn leaned against him. “So is life with you always this exciting?”

  “No. Not normally. I tend to work and hunt ghosts.”

  “Well, I have a theory that the ghost hunting is part of this craziness. I mean, maggots don’t usually happen in live flesh. I think maybe the biter was a ghost.”

  The words maggot and flesh made Blaine want to gag. “I’ve heard of spectral bites, but… not this.”

  “Spectral bites?” Flynn asked, cuddling closer.

  “Yeah, you know, random scratches, bites from nowhere?”

  “Yeah, that sounds like what happened. Only it had a maggot stuck in its teeth or something.” Flynn shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be thrilled by having contact with the other side or freaked out that it hurt you. And I’m leaning toward freaked out. I was honestly worried about you.”

  “Yeah. Flynn, I have to tell you, if you say the word maggot one more time, I’m going to make you sleep in the car.”

  Flynn laughed, then stopped suddenly. “You’re serious about that, aren’t you?”

  “Yes. No more m-word. Not until I have a good night’s sleep and possibly a beer.”

  “I’ll totally get us a couple of beers. If you’re allowed to have them while you’re taking meds.”

  Flynn wasn’t going to be a stickler for the rules o
n this, was he?

  “Thank you for running me to the hospital, man.”

  “I would have done it sooner if I’d realized what was happening. I figured we could just doctor it ourselves, though, you know?” Flynn got up and stretched. “Did you get a sheet of dos and don’ts with your meds?”

  “Probably?” He’d just shoved everything in his bag.

  Flynn snorted at him and started going through the bag with his meds. “Here we go.” Flynn started reading.

  “Tell me ‘have a beer’ is on there.”

  Flynn chuckled. “It doesn’t say have a beer. But it doesn’t say you’re not allowed to have a beer either, so I’m going to assume we’re good to go on the beer front.”

  “Works for me. Christ, I’m tired. Bone-deep.”

  “Why don’t you head upstairs and pick a movie to watch or a show to binge on? I’ll get us some beer and a snack and meet you there. We’ll spend the afternoon hibernating.”

  “You sure?” Blaine was already up and moving.

  “I’m sure. I think there’s leftover pizza. The guys were hoping to see you last night, but lo, we were stuck in the hospital waiting for a doc to certify you officially bug-free.” Flynn’s voice faded away as he headed to the kitchen.

  Whatever. Blaine didn’t care. He just wanted to relax, rest.

  He grabbed the remote on the way to the bed, groaning as he sat on the mattress. His own bed had never felt so good.

  He patted his pillow, making sure there were no bugs, no eggs, nothing gross. Then he did the two extras and Flynn’s too. Everything was clean, kosher. In fact he was pretty sure Mom had been here with clean bedding, not just pillowcases.

  She was a trouper. So good to him.

  Flynn arrived with a pizza box, a couple of beers, and a bunch of napkins, plus his bag of meds. “Most of these are ‘take with food,’ so….”

  “Cool.” Blaine stared at Flynn, blinked a couple of times, then sat up.

  “You sure you need the beer?” Flynn asked, setting stuff down on the bedside table.

  “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know anything.”

  “Well, it’s here now. Just have a piece of pizza first.” Flynn gave him a cold slice. “And when you’re thirsty, have some beer. I bet you fall asleep before you’re done with it anyway.”

 

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