Paranoia Blues (Josh)

The telepath sat alert and warding off a migraine, behind the wheel of the van, as he waited for Josh to come out. The lights dimmed through the window, he noticed, which was a good instinct for hiding as well as what was undoubtedly Josh’s effort to conserve energy. But then his friend took his sweet time actually leaving the house and walking down the driveway to join him. He rubbed his eyes, warding off the pain that was brewing, and turned his head when the passenger-side door opened.

He didn’t reply immediately to Josh’s gentle needling, instead he carefully composed what he wished to say, before throwing it all to the wind. When given the opportunity to get a word in edgewise, he told the other man, quite seriously, “I love you.” He then sighed softly, pressing himself to continue lest they have yet another one of those conversations. “Even if that love isn’t expressed romantically anymore, I still love you, and I’ll be damned before I let you get hurt.”

He hoped that he had managed to impart the seriousness of this: that Josh was his family, his oldest and dearest friend, his first love, and in a crisis situation, he needed the other man to be safe. For his own sanity, he needed to be sure of that, lest he worry about Josh being the innocent bystander – he assumed that he would be, rather than the target, as very few people knew about Josh or his connection to Sean, and Sean’s mind was difficult to penetrate. But he was still a non-powered, gentle soul, who had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Sean didn’t want him out on the street unattended with Gabriel and his potential cohorts – there had to be cohorts – running around. He hoped that he’d managed to convey that with his admission, rather than merely making the rest of the night awkward for both of them.

But his friend had made a valid point: that Sean had conveyed little that was helpful to him, as Josh hadn’t been present at the meeting in Claude’s office. Forcing himself to speak rationally, he replied, “As far as I know, nobody cooks anything downtown that isn’t at a restaurant or a bakery, and honestly, I wish that this were something as simple as drug crime. There’s a very dangerous man, a meta, running around right now, and I feel infinitely better knowing that you’re safe with me.” He frowned slightly at the other man’s admission that he’d spoken with someone today, and was prompted to ask, “Would you be terribly upset if I read your mind?” That he asked implied that this was more than listening to a surface thought, and that he was on edge.

“Buckle up,” he added, as he pulled down the parking break allowing him to back the van out of Josh’s driveway. They could discuss more while on the road.

Sean gave Josh an “I’m not amused” look at the comment about not enjoying his company; he knew that his friend was trying to lift his spirits through humor, but he’d also greeted him by letting him know precisely how he still felt about him. His urge to protect the other man aside, that should be enough for Josh to realize the seriousness of the matter and that the telepath always enjoyed his friend’s company. Even when crashing his car, although he could do without another car crash which is why Josh wouldn’t be driving the van anytime in the near future.

As for the warning, Sean nodded, because he could agree to that, to a point. He honestly didn’t think that Gabriel would see him out, but he also didn’t want Josh in the realm of collateral damage, just in case something happened tonight. The telepath was confident enough in his psychic ability that he felt he would win in a psychic battle of wits against the younger man, with little injury on his part, which is why he could make such a promise to Josh regarding self-preservation. Soberly, he said, “I won’t give you cause to humiliate me during my eulogy just yet.”

The telepath managed a slight quirk of his lips to convey his acknowledgment of Josh’s permission, and then he focused, lowering his barriers enough to see into his friend’s so very familiar mind. The familiarity of his friend’s mind made probing easy, requiring little effort or concentration, although as it was a potential invasion into his very self, Sean tried not to do so without permission, as spousal privilege – or its functional equivalent – didn’t apply to their dynamic and hadn’t for many years. Once touching Josh’s mind, he made short work of gingerly looking through his recent memories, merely to check on who his friend had run into today, to see if he recognized anyone as a potential danger. Unfortunately he couldn’t read minds through memories, otherwise his work would be all the easier.

Seeing a familiar female face, he managed a sigh of relief. Disengaging from Josh’s mind and setting his mental shields back into place, he began to chuckle, although it was a dry, humorless sound. “You met Clarisse.” This was a huge relief, for two reasons: the first that Josh hadn’t run into anyone harmful while outside this afternoon, and the second that Clarisse was present and accounted for. Sean had tried to find her earlier to no avail; apparently she had left school grounds prior to the meeting. He could scratch her off his list, although he still wanted to check in with her, but that could wait until tomorrow. This was a tremendous load off his mind.

Slightly calmer now, and with Josh safely buckled into the passenger seat, Sean began to drive. “Lasagna and salad, unless you want to object now.” He had enough food in the house for a week’s worth of meals, and if Josh wanted something else, he wouldn’t mind making it.

Sean was silent for a few moments as they drove down Josh’s block and onto one of the “main” streets toward his own house. However, he felt he owed the other man a better explanation, and he commented on something he had overheard earlier but had let go without remark. “Nobody is being stabbed on the street, but this man is dangerous regardless.”

Josh’s protest did more for Sean’s nerves than all of the tea he’d downed today. This was one of the many reasons they were friends; Josh’s anxieties and intensity aside, he could make the telepath relax like nobody else could. “While you’re lying, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention the flag burning incident.” Instinctively, he reached out with his left hand to cover the other man’s on his arm, although he immediately drew it back to the wheel. Hearing his friend’s thought, he found it easier to reply without words. I wouldn’t want anyone else to give it, but I’m not rushing off to die anytime soon. I still have Social Security to collect.

“You’re kidding,” Sean muttered, although Catholic jokes were usually beyond his friend’s repertoire. Sean knew that he was liked well enough at work, and that some of the younger faculty looked up to him, and true, Clarisse had come to him for advice, but Sainthood was an entirely different level. Not that the Church would canonize him, as he’d been to one too many reproductive rights rallies, and had had too much sex without being married, not to mention the bisexuality and his atheism. It was both a warm and depressing thought, someone regarding him so highly. All the more reason he had to be on his toes, to keep from failing her and the rest of Hammel. “She’s young yet; she’ll learn.”

Sean wouldn’t ask Josh to help him cook anytime soon, not with his friend’s kitchen habits. But supper wouldn’t take too long to prepare once they made it safely home. At the offer, he replied, “You can set the table and keep me from having more than one drink.” A glass of wine would take the edge off, but he needed his faculties clear tonight.

“If this was about Ron Paul, I’d be thrilled. Even if this was about Lyndon LaRouche I’d take it; he’s safely in prison.” He watched Josh turn away, and he knew what his friend was thinking; at any other time, he’d at least have friendly banter about protesting, whether he went through with it or not, but today he just wasn’t in the mood. They reached a stoplight, and Sean lifted his hands from the wheel briefly to rub his temples; his migraine was worsening. “Could you check the glove compartment and see if there’s any Excedrin in there, please?” He could use the caffeine, and the throbbing had grown maddening.

Josh’s question regarding the authorities was a fair one, although they were handling this internally for now. Police didn’t understand meta-human abilities, and although it was criminal to assault someone, powers or no powers, explaining this beyond a reasonable doubt would be nigh impossible without setting off a wave of anti-meta backlash. And James wouldn’t want to testify, surely. Besides, they would have to track down Gabriel, which was a much larger problem than calling in the authorities, who didn’t have a tendency to employ psychics and thus would be vulnerable. The entire situation was a mess, although someone was going to get law enforcement involved soon. So he murmured a vague, “They’re on the lookout” and left it at that.

Sean had turned that question over in his mind the entire trip to Josh’s house, and then while waiting in the driveway. He had known that the other man would ask it, not simply because he knew his friend, but because it was the logical question to ask. And as much as Sean didn’t like the idea of letting Josh out of his sight tomorrow, he would have to. He couldn’t avid work in the morning, because Claude and the rest of Hammel needed him, and Josh would be uncomfortable there for political reasons, as well as because it wasn’t his job, and he wouldn’t be any safer at a place that had already been attacked. Josh wouldn’t be safer at his house without Sean there to watch over him, so there was no reason he couldn’t go to work tomorrow. The telepath would simply let the worry nag at him, although hopefully he would feel better after a night of sleep. “You can go to work if you want. I just feel better knowing you’re safe tonight.” Did his voice sound as vulnerable to his friend as it did to him? He hated feeling like circling the wagons was his best defense.

He sighed then, taking a cleansing breath so he could explain the situation, and the history, in as clear and rational way as possible. “He’s a puppeteer. Not in the children’s entertainment sense, but it’s the noun for a person with his ability, a rare gift to mentally use another body as his own. But instead of using this power consensually for the sake of helping others or doing what one might do with friends and family, he’s a textbook narcissistic sadistic sociopath and inflicts pain on other people wearing their skin, and then disappears before he has to deal with the consequences.” Sean could feel his blood pressure rising, at the thought of what Gabriel had done to James, and what he could do to someone else. “Not to be arrogant, but he can’t touch me.” Gabriel wasn’t nearly stupid enough to try and risk being trapped in a coma for as long as Sean felt like keeping him there; on the contrary, her was intelligent, which made him dangerous.

Sean nodded slightly at the other man’s pledge, a signal that the promise was acceptable and that he appreciated it. Particularly some of their drunken escapades; even the ones he remembered made him blush, and the ones he didn’t remember... “If you come back as a ghost to give the eulogy, I’ll be sure to come back and listen to it.” One ludicrous promise deserved another. There was, however, a serious undertone; the telepath had no closer friends than Josh; the other man was his family, and he wanted nobody else to give his hypothetical eulogy. Today’s events had made him both paranoid and maudlin, which meant that it would be a long, unpleasant evening if he couldn’t snap out of it before a depressed episode took root. Perhaps the urgency would keep the depression at bay.

“That’s just fine.” Problems didn’t tend to arise when at least one of them was sober, and Sean planned on staying sober throughout the evening. To do otherwise was a security risk, and the added benefit was that it would keep him from doing something he might regret come the morning. “I learned not to let you map subway routes in college,” he pointed out, which was as much as his mood would lighten this evening. “And I know they don’t; that’s why I use them.” That and the added caffeine in every pill; a wonder drug, those, since they did manage to help with telepathy-induced migraines. Sean then grimaced at the thought of his friend trying to cook anything in his kitchen; he respected Josh and the man had many talents, but cooking wasn’t among them. “No, it’s fine. The ricotta’s draining in the refrigerator and I have fresh ingredients and everything. I’ll be fine.” They would be at his house momentarily and then he could take off his shoes and relax a bit.

“It doesn’t matter if I’d rather you call in sick; you can go to work,” Sean told him. His friend was as safe at work as he was just about anywhere else out of his sight, and he’d already run through the possibilities mentally. Josh couldn’t come to Hammel with him, and he couldn’t skip work tomorrow, and thus his friend wouldn’t be under his watchful eye. And mind. Absent that, he didn’t need to disrupt the other man’s life any more than he already had. It didn’t matter at that point if he was at work or at home, as far as Sean was concerned. Both were relatively isolated and both were out of Sean’s line of sight and telepathic range; he would worry either way, but he would worry less now that Josh at least knew about the danger. He could give him a description of Gabriel so he knew who to avoid on the street. “Just answer your phone if I call.” That was a fair compromise. And this way, Josh wouldn’t have to use his vacation days on this; he could save them for more immediate danger or for his parents.

Sean knew that the power could be seen as disturbing by most people; it was only due to his time with Hammel and his sensitivity as someone who possessed a psychic power – one which others found disturbing as well although not usually quite as disturbing as Gabriel’s or Chase’s – that he also didn’t find it disturbing on its own. But Gabriel’s mindset and the choices he had made with his powers, using them in such horrible ways disturbed Sean, as well as that feeling of responsibility because the boy had slipped through his fingertips years ago due to the rest of the staff’s disbelief. He didn’t ruffle at Josh’s question, because he didn’t view it as insulting to his pride; besides, the telepath didn’t have much of an ego. He read it as his friend’s concern for him, and to ease that concern, he wanted to give as detailed an explanation as he could to someone completely unfamiliar with the situation and who had only that knowledge of psychic powers necessary to be close to a telepath. “You remember when I told you about how all powers have limits? One of his is that he can’t effect people with strong mental blocks – chiefly other psychics who know what they’re doing. I know what I’m doing.” He let out a sigh, and then turned to glance out the window for a moment. “Besides, I don’t think he’s after me; he was after information. I just don’t want you out on the street tonight as potential collateral damage.” There was a pause, before Sean asked, “You trust me, don’t you?”

The telepath had always been a little self-conscious about how quickly he’d managed to pay off his student loans and pay off the mortgage on his house; thus he didn’t brag about it, or discuss it often at all. He had earned a bit of scholarship money and student loans hadn’t been so burdensome in the 1970s. The money he inherited from his parents helped as well, since he was both the first-born child and the only boy; his parents old-fashioned enough that birth order and his gender had mattered. However, what paid the lion’s share was the fact that psychiatrists were compensated well for their time, even when they worked at schools instead of in private practice. He’d earned that money back nauseatingly fast, and on some days, he felt guilty for it. On others, he was grateful since he could afford a nice house; even if that nice house was in a small town in Vermont where property values were more reasonable than back home. “It helped a bit,” he told his friend, letting his thoughts slip back to matters at hand. He’d get over the headache; he always did. Now if only his heart would slow down.

As Sean pulled the van into the garage, he lightly tapped the brakes to bring them to a complete halt. “I’m not taking a nap unless you’re coming with me.” The statement hung in the air for a moment, but then Sean sighed softly, reaching up to rub his temple lightly as he realized how that sounded. He was tired, he reminded himself; he was tired and that was why he’d phrased his refusal that way. Turning the keys in the ignition, he popped them out and stuffed them into his coat pocket. “That wasn’t an invitation. I’m not taking a nap.”

Sean wouldn’t repay the favor, primarily because Josh hadn’t led them on the back tour of Manhattan and made them late from malice; he just didn’t seem to understand subway maps. Despite having been born and raised in the city. The telepath didn’t quite understand how Josh had such a poor understanding of the subway system, but he’d long made peace with the fact that his friend wasn’t perfect. But his flaws didn’t include malice; Josh was a good man who meant well, even when he erred. And besides, how could Sean let his friend starve to death by withholding the location of the grocery store? “I won’t return the favor,” the psychiatrist promised him, but he didn’t further tease as he might otherwise, because he wasn’t in the mood.

Sean was glad that Josh hadn’t argued with him further about going to work, because he didn’t have it in him to advocate for Josh being out of his sight and talking with people all day. He simply accepted it as a necessary part of his own schedule and the reality of the school; they would be separated for most of the day, while he tended to the aftermath, but he’d try to commandeer his friend for supper tomorrow as well. And if it took calling him during lunch or other breaks to feel a little calmer, he was grateful that Josh accepted that without argument. “Thank you.” All the other man had to do was remember to bring it and keep it on; otherwise Sean might go into a panic the next day if he failed to reach him.

There was only so much that Sean could do to reassure people about powers; those who had never experienced powers had to take his word on pure faith and credit, and those who had experience tended to think he exaggerated to spare feelings. In some ways, he was the poster boy for disaster, although Josh hadn’t known him during the worst of it, back when he couldn’t keep thoughts out of his head, back when he’d been slowly on the brink of losing his sanity. Back when memories weren’t safe in his care if he had a bad day, which is why his coworkers had been so cautious around him when Robert had passed away; he was a different man now. However, Josh had also seen him intimate, had experienced that intimate connection – the merge – that many telepaths instinctively began when in love. His friend had faith in him in a different way than his colleagues and the students did, because Josh had seen him fully grown, powerful and yet emotionally dependent. And he knew his friend trusted him, and that trust was very important. He closed his eyes briefly, hearing Josh’s thoughts. I swear on everything that I have and everything I am that I’ll keep you safe and live to see us as next door neighbors at a retirement center. The telepath wouldn’t let anything happen to either of them; worried as he was, Gabriel would not be his undoing.

The psychiatrist continued to rub his temples, sighing again. He hadn’t intended to open up that can of worms, but he was both careless because of the stress and also hyper-sensitive because his nerves were frayed. He didn’t want to scare off the other man, which was why he’d given the disclaimer; Josh had ended it the first time, and regardless of how many times they found themselves together again over the decades, his friend was skittish as a rabbit over it. The telepath had moved on; he was capable of living without Josh and could envision himself in a relationship with someone else for the rest of his life – had been in relationships where he could have settled down – but some part of him would always be happy to settle with Josh again given the opportunity.

Of course, the alcohol helped erode those carefully constructed boundaries, but a single glass of wine wouldn’t make a dent. He needed the wine to take the edge off. And if Josh got a little tipsy, the telepath was capable of saying “no.” Even if the thought of lying down with the other man – completely platonically – was a tempting thought for after supper. Although he had to assume Josh wouldn’t take too warmly to being a security blanket. He sighed and exited the car, letting everything go for now; he would see how he felt after eating.

He was careful to lock the door and then set about the kitchen, concentrating on cooking. He put together the lasagna into a reasonable shape and then shoved the dish into the oven. Afterward, he focused on the simpler task of making salad; with the time of year, there were farmers’ markers aplenty where he could get fresh vegetables. Tearing the lettuce and spinach was easy, and then he had to cut all of the other vegetables: tomatoes, cucumber, celery, carrots, peppers...

He nearly dropped the knife when he felt the other man come up behind him; oh, he was paranoid tonight. “Make sure you don’t get cut,” he warned his friend, since he didn’t want him to get hurt, and he didn’t want to take a trip to the emergency room.

The knife came down again, and he began scraping cut vegetables into the spinner. The salad spinner was one of the many semi-useless appliances he owned, given to him by relatives and coworkers who didn’t know what else to give him during the holidays or for his birthday. “And despite your greatest efforts, I’m still glad I invited you over. Unless you burn my kitchen to the ground, but that’s why I’m not letting you cook.”

Once he’d finished spinning the salad so it was well mixed, he dumped the contents in a bowl and stepped around his friend, to avoid elbowing him in the face, and set the bowl on the table. “I’ll get the wine; I also have some beer in the fridge.”

Sean didn’t dignify the question about whether he would intentionally slice Josh with a response; his friend knew better. The entire reason he had insisted on having him stay the night was for his safety, and he wouldn’t intentionally hurt the other man. But his friend needed to be careful, because the telepath’s nerves were frayed and he was jumpy as a result. “I know you didn’t,” Sean said, which was as much absolution as he could offer. He took greater care while he finished chopping vegetables. Hearing the other man’s thought, he remarked, “You’re not a terrible friend. You’re the best one I have.” Surely Josh understood that.

“Better safe than sorry,” Sean informed him. He didn’t actually think that Josh would burn down his kitchen, certainly not deliberately, but he’d made the initial comment as an absurdity, to refute Josh’s joke that he might regret inviting him over. Unfortunately, the telepath didn’t have it in him at the moment to continue the banter more than that round, and he didn’t latch onto the topic of aging. He was still young enough to take care of himself, and Josh, and the students at Hammel, and that was what mattered.

Once the salad was on the table, he went to fetch the bread he’d bought that morning and set it out with the butter. Then he had to check on how the lasagna was faring. Over his shoulder, he replied, “Yuengling, what else would I get?” The telepath wasn’t much of a beer drinker; he settled for it when there was nothing else available or for certain occasions – primarily barbecues where liquor and wine were considered inappropriate - but he preferred hard liquor to get buzzed and wine to compliment his meals. The lasagna was coming together nicely; they just had to wait on it.

He trusted Josh to find his way around the refrigerator, and when his friend had his beer and he had his glass of wine, he had a sip to take the edge off his nerves. He wasn’t up to a toast either, as he could think of none that wouldn’t be depressing or focused more on the danger which lurked in the background. “It should be ready in a few minutes,” he told his friend. Then they could eat, settle down, and pretend for a few minutes that this was normal, even though it was anything but. Their suppers weren’t usually declared in the interest of safety; he usually didn’t need to threaten Josh with nightmarish possibilities to get him to come over for a few hours.

Sean took another sip of wine and thought through the question. “I didn’t make any specific ones,” he admitted, since there was no reason to hide the lack of forethought; he could be honest with the other man. “We could pop on an episode of Northern Exposure, if you want.” Josh wasn’t much of a television person, but he’d always seemed to enjoy the quirky show when it was on back in the early 90s, the few times they’d watched it together. The telepath had picked up the DVDs when they’d been released, as they were better than most of the television on at present; they didn’t write for his demographic and consciousness. Sean appreciated Josh’s desire to steer away from the topic of the attack, as he wasn’t at liberty to discuss it in detail; for both Hammel’s safety and for James as a friend, he couldn’t go into specifics.

“It’s fine if you nap.” The telepath intended for Josh to spend the night as it was, and so if he wanted to take an early night, he took no offense. He wouldn’t sleep well that night, but there was no reason for Josh to suffer that same fate. Sean ran his finger along the edge of his wine glass, thoughtful for a moment. “I might dust off the piano for a while, but I can be quiet about it.” Not that the rest of his behavior tonight wasn’t clearly indicative of how upset he was, but the piano was a clear sign. Sean didn’t play the piano for fun, not when he was sober; he used it as a means of meditation, but only when appropriately riled up.