He walked into the attached kitchen area and tried to be as quiet as possible as he went about his morning ritual of making tea. Red stirred on the couch, and eventually sat up, one of the many blankets covering his head. “Mornin’” he slurred, still half asleep. “Good morning sunshine” John said while walking to the pile of things on the floor. With some effort, he lifted the rusted iron helmet and handed it to Red, then turned around before he could see Red put it on. Red stretched and yawned as he said, “Don’t worry, I’m decent now.”
John returned to the kitchen and prepared a pot of coffee for his friend. Red fell off of the couch with a floor-shaking thump, and shakily stood while straightening his apron. Both ignored the random banging complaints coming from the downstairs neighbors’ ceiling. Red held his head in his hands as John set a steaming mug of coffee onto the table. Red sat, still holding his head. “D’you mind turnin’ the lights off? This one’s a killer,” he said. John knew there were no lights on, yet he stood and drew a heavy curtain across the large window behind the table. With the room visibly darker, Red released his head and gratefully downed the coffee John had made for him.
“When did we get in last night?” he asked. John thought for a moment, and then said, “Around midnight or one am, I think. We weren’t out for too long.” Red groaned, and John looked at him with pity. “I shoulda taken that damn potion before we left, Christ my head hurts.” Red lamented. John shook his head as he said “Didn’t Bart and I both tell you that?” Red groaned louder as he rested his chin on the table and let his arms dangle to the floor. John stood and retrieved a corked bottle containing a shimmering blue liquid from one of the cabinets. He returned to the table and pulled the cork out, the odd popping sound getting Red’s attention. “If that’s what I think it is…” he trailed off, while slowly sitting up. John laughed a little and handed Red the small round bottle, which he emptied in one great gulp. He idly tossed the empty vessel over his shoulder out of habit, and John caught it just in time before it would have shattered on the tile floor. John made a disapproving noise as Red clapped a hand to his shoulder and said, “Slendy, I want to have your babies. Seriously man, how did you get that? Bart never lets folks take those out of the bar.”
John laughed loudly at the mental image of a tiny version of himself hanging off of Red’s helmet before saying, “No worries. Bart told me that he ‘may have misplaced one’ while I paid the tab. ‘Misplaced it’ right into my hand, actually. But just this once, he said. Will you listen to us next time?” Red stood quickly, almost knocking over the table, and stretched while he said it would never happen again.
“Shame those damn things don’t restore memories too, I have no idea what happened yesterday,” Red continued. “I’ll tell you in a minute, ok? I’ve got to return this,” John said. He carefully rinsed out the bottle, replaced the cork, and put it all in a small purple, green, and black box, which vanished once he closed it. After Red had folded the blankets and moved his things out of the way, John sat with him on the battered green couch. “So? What went down?” Red invited.
“Well,” John started, “I bumped into you at Simon’s place when I went by to return a book. He told me you’d been moving from couch to couch. Said that your place burnt down and you had no work so he let you crash there for a little while. I don’t know why you didn’t call me first; I’ve been worried about you.” Red groaned and put his head back in his hands. “I lost my phone.”
“Anyway,” John continued, “While we were talking you got a phone call. After rushing into the hall to answer it, you came back within about five minutes to tell us that you’d been given a job.” Red straightened up at this. “Really? Aw, sweet! Doing what?”
“The studio needed you back for another project. They had had a fair amount of work done, and would be completing it with you within the next year or so.”
“Hell yeah!” Red punched the air in triumph. “So we went out to celebrate, right?”
“You and I did. Thorin, you know- Simon’s roommate, passed by and said he had to meet a burglar, whatever that meant, and Simon had plans already, so we took our separate cars and met up at The Anomaly. It looked like a super-modern martini bar last night. Very shiny. We sat where we usually do and, as always, there were a good few people checking you out. You talked briefly with a Hooloovoo, but they suddenly left. You were a riot man; you were so excited to be working with Hideo for the first time. You kept gushing about what a visionary he was. You bought the bar a round of drinks and danced with a chimera. Halfway through a third song, your phone rang. You answered the call and the whole place went silent. After you hung up, you chucked your phone through a window. Bart’s not too happy about that.”
“Shit, no wonder my phone’s gone and my wallet’s empty. I’ll get the window fixed.”
“Everyone just kind of stared as you slouched back to the bar. I asked what happened, and you said that the project had been cancelled. We still don’t know why, but you were pissed, and rightfully so in my opinion. Everyone else kind of fucked off at that point, and you just sat there, gulping down literally all of the Jack that Bart had. You refused the potion, so I had to take you home, which will be here for now. Now, for what’s happening today, I need to get the Caddy shampooed,” Red groaned again, apologizing. “And you need to talk to Bart about that window. I had the Rat towed over here.”
“Fuck me man. I must have mortified you, I’m sorry,” Red said while leaning back on the couch, facing the ceiling. John clapped a hand to Red’s shoulder, like Red often does to him, and said, “Hey, shit happens. It’s no big deal. I’d get smashed too.”
“Sorry I didn’t call you first, when things went to hell. My phone melted in the fire, I had to get one of those shitty prepaid ones.”
“Well that explains all the unanswered calls. Can I ask what happened?” John said cautiously. Red sat for a few minutes before speaking. “Well, if I am staying here now I guess you should know. It was about three months ago, at like, two in the morning. I was minding my own business, just hanging out, y’know? Next thing I knew someone had launched some kind of homemade fire-bomb through the glass door. The whole place was up in seconds. I was barely able to get my Knife out before the house collapsed. I remember just staring at it all, in shock, I guess. I have no clue what happened once the Watch got there. One of the neighbors, one of the rare few that didn’t hate me, let me stay with her for about four days. Nice lady, probably about 130 years old.”
“Shit on a sandwich. What did you do? Aren’t you insured for this kind of thing? Who threw the bomb?” John was incredulous. Who would want to attack his friend like that?
“Never got insurance. Never thought I’d need it. Couldn’t afford it anyway. And if that wasn’t enough, about a week before the fire, Claudia called and said I’d been replaced by some asshole called The Butcher. I was only paid per execution, but this fucker was getting a salary!”
“That’s bullshit!”
“Damn right it is. I had just started to stay with Simon when the Watch came by and told me what they had found.” Red stopped speaking for a few minutes. Watching him, John could see that he was trying to compose himself. After a moment of tense silence, Red continued. “They said that it was some kind of protest bullshit. There was a faction of people who hated me and what I do, er, did I guess, in that town, and that was their retaliation after I’d taken out one of their group. Look, I have no problem with the people I handle at work, but goddammit, I don’t try the fuckers and sentence them for shit’s sake.”
“Fuckin’ kids. What did the Watch do?” John was pissed now, his back twitching a little.
“Sent ‘em back to Claudia. She called and told me that the people let it go because of their age. What a load of shit. So yeah, I’m fuckin’ homeless and jobless now.” Red finally finished. John sat still, stunned. Red suddenly stood, startling John back into reality. “Look, thanks for helping me out last night, but I’ll be fine. I’ll get my shit and get out of your hair. Sorry to bother you,” Red said while pulling on his boots and shouldering his Knife.
“Man, shut the fuck up.” John snapped. Red, who had moved to the front door, whipped his head around to look at John, who had risen from the couch. “Excuse you?” he said.
“You heard me. You always say shit like that, like you think you’re a burden or worthless. Well bud, I’m here to tell you that that shit is not true in the slightest bit.” John walked over to Red, who had dropped his Knife in surprise, and took him by the shoulders. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Go talk to Bart, then take this,” John held up a debit card between two fingers, “and get whatever you need. After that I want you to take this,” John dangled a key from a loop on his third finger, “And come back here.”
“John, I can’t take these.” Red whispered. It was one of the rare times Red used John’s real name, which only happened in the most serious of situations. John shook his head and pressed the items into Red’s gloved hand. “You can and you will. This is not negotiable. Consider this payback for twelfth grade if you must. Now, I’m going to go run some errands, and if you aren’t here when I get home, I’m going to find you and drag you back here.”
Red clutched the key and debit card, his hands shaking. John simply patted his friends shoulder and left to go get dressed. When John returned, Red was still frozen in place, staring at the items in his hand. John just shook his head and left the small apartment, locking the door behind him.
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