InsaneJournal

what if a dream was reality and reality was a dream?
Who: Chris & [Coyote].
What: Chris and his deity have a chat. Coyote has things to say.
Where: The fifth floor.
When: April 16, 9:30 a.m.

The gifts had been one thing; this... was insanity.

He'd moved out of his doorway and into the hall, eyes trailing along a gargantuan tree root embedded in the fucking floor. There was no way... Chris shook his head, clearing it of those thoughts as if they could be read from a distance. He pulled his apartment door shut behind him as if to ward off whatever changes from infiltrating into his personal space. It was bad enough to think his apartment had been bugged; he certainly didn't want whatever was in the hall to creep in.

Moving slowly, he walked across thick, springy grass, eyes roaming every which way over the new contents of the previously empty hall. He walked past the huge hearth, his shadow flickering on the wall behind him, past the giant kegs from which he could smell the telltale scent of alcohol. It was subtly sweet, but now was not a time for inebriation even though he knew a drink might help curb some of the anxiety muffling his thoughts.

His curiosity was pushing him to explore further, to see what else had apparently become of the building while they were all asleep. Rather than exploring downward, to see what might have become of Daniel's floor, or stopping to see how Kal was and if he'd seen what had happened, Chris kept to himself, venturing out in solitude to make sense of what was happening before he was pressed for explanations. No one yet knew what he was truly connected to, but it seemed like it was inevitable before someone found out.

Chris hit the call button for the elevator, wondering if it was even still functional. Much to his relief, it was; he went up one floor, hitting and holding the open doors button as he peeked out into what looked like a tropical garden that would be more at home in Hawaii. Something about it struck a note in him; a memory of a dream, of sitting on a beach with someone so familiar. Chris bit his lip, wondering if Kal remembered that shared seeming-memory; the coyote and the man been talking about them, in a roundabout way, which was the strange part, almost as if their dream selves were real and they -- Chris and Kal -- were the fictional ones. Chris shook his head again, and let the doors slide closed, moving up another floor.

On the fifth, he stepped out of the elevator entirely. This... this felt too familiar, as though he were coming home. A sense of comfort, of letting his guard down pervaded him; lines of tension in his shoulders softened, his limp growing more noticeable as he didn't expend as much effort to conceal it and simply walked. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been outside merely for the sake of being outdoors; he felt warmed by the sun, almost like being in Rafe's presence, though thoughts of the other man didn't move across his mind in that moment. Instead, he moved only forward, through the grass, pausing when he saw it move faster than the slight wind should have left the flora moving.

He took a step back when a coyote appeared through the parted grasses, a hand rising in self-defense; confusion drew his brows together when the coyote stood up on its hind legs, offering him a little bow of greeting. To compound matters, it spoke.

"This is long overdue, don't you think?"

Chris' mouth gaped in confusion, and the coyote grinned.

"Cat got your tongue? Come now, you're better than this."

Chris forced his hand back to his side, straightening, albeit his spine was still slightly curved away from his bad leg to keep pressure off of it. He regarded the coyote warily, trying to make sense of what was happening.

"I'm still asleep," he finally murmured, the only logical explanation that made sense. "I'm asleep and all of this is a dream and-"

The coyote shrugged, lifting paws into the air as if to say, ah, well, I tried.

"You are, in a sense," he admitted, a paw reaching out to rake over grasses. "And you're not, but if that helps, I don't mind to be thought of as an imaginary character. Man was never very good at wrapping its mind around abstract concepts." The coyote looked at Chris and winked. "We both know what the truth is.

"But that aside, I think it's time we had a chat."

Chris blinked, brow furrowing. "About what?"

The coyote closed the space between them, turning about on one paw to face the same direction as Chris (Chris envied its ease of motion, and then admonished himself for being jealous over a thing his mind was making up while he slept) while lacing an arm over Chris' shoulders in a friendly manner. He drew Chris deeper into the floor as they strolled at a leisurely pace.

"About your attitude, friend. You've been, I think the phrase is, a sad sack ever since, well...that," he replied, motioning to Chris' bad leg. Chris frowned, trying to move away from the coyote, which only caused the animal to tighten its grip. "Now, don't be offended-"

"How, exactly, am I supposed to not... I can't believe this is happening right now, I'm fucking cracking up," Chris murmured to himself, a hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut as though upon opening them, he'd find himself awake in his bed. He tried to shrug off the arm he could feel around his shoulders, but it did not abate. On top of that, when he opened his eyes again, the floor was still covered in grass and warm sun and the smell of campfires, and it started to sink in that...

"This is real, isn't it?"

The coyote grinned again, nodding, folding his paw in a facsimile of pointing his index digit at Chris in confirmation. "You're getting it. Now, we just need to work on that attitude adjustment." He pushed Chris along a well-beaten path amid the grass, though how such a thing could have been formed between one moment and the next was beyond Chris. A hand rose up, raking back through his hair as his mind struggled to process everything he was seeing. Grapple with the simple fact that he was still inside Pax, that the floor was inside out, sort of, that he was walking and talking with a coyote.

"...so I think that, when all's said and done..." The coyote paused, stopping in their stroll as he realized that Chris was no longer listening. He sighed. "This is going to be harder than I thought, isn't it?"

Chris shrugged, not sure what kind of answer the thing was expecting. "You're kind of asking a lot right now."

"Yeah... yeah, I see that," the coyote agreed. He withdrew his arm from around Chris' shoulders, though the paw lingered for a moment as the coyote studied him. "But this was a good start, don't you think? I certainly do. Now, you're going to want to wake up."

Chris stared at the coyote, confused. "Wait, but I thought..."

The coyote grinned. "Oh, parts of this are real. This, right here, though? Is not. So time to go wake up." He gave Chris a little shove, then seemed to think better of it. "Wait. I have a couple of things I want you to do."

"Like...?" Chris was more lost than he'd been at the beginning of all of this.

The coyote held up a paw, counting down with each digit. "Get out more. Go talk to your friends. And for earth's sake, please stop doing stupid things like making weird phone calls. Oh," he blinked, memory drudging up one last request. "And go find Ares again. He was fun."

Chris started to ask who the hell Ares was, when he remembered Daniel. It was clear they were going to have things to discuss, but he didn't get a chance to say anything more, because the coyote tapped him on the forehead, and he woke up in his bed. It seemed insane that all of that had been a dream; but the tangled sheets and familiar walls of his bedroom suggested otherwise. He was sweating, the comforter around him slightly damp, and he threw back what little remained on his person. Putting his brace on, he grabbed a loose, once-worn pair of jeans and a tee, put sneakers on his feet, and headed directly for his front door.

He opened it and saw giant roots. The fire. The kegs. Chris settled back against his doorway, completely and utterly unsure as to how he'd dreamt this, and now it was real. Was the coyote real, too? For a moment, he lingered in his doorway, wondering if he should move forward to find out. He remembered the things the creature had asked of him -- get out more, talk to your friends, stop doing stupid things.

Chris sighed, understanding too well what the last meant, but he wasn't going to say as much to anyone else. Making sure he had his keys on him, he pulled his door shut and started to make a beeline for the elevator, intent on going to the fifth floor in search of whatever would pass for answers.