Dan Torrance (dr_sleep) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2019-10-21 11:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, dan torrance, jack torrance |
Who? Dan and Jack
Where? Derry, just outside the library.
When? Backdated to Friday October 18, in the morning.
What? Leaving for Florida
Open? No
Rating: Creepy shit under the cut.
Complete!
Dan stood on the steps just outside Derry's public library, his duffel bag slung across his back, and waited on Jack following him, so he could get the van started while Dan just hoped for his headache to hopefully start dying down. He rubbed at his watch-strap for a moment before forcing himself to stop. Bryn had insisted on warding them before they went through the door, bringing back memories of when the pair of them had stormed the Overlook and rescued his dad, and his was on the inside of his left wrist - a blood rune on his forehead would be more than a bit noticeable, after all, but something that looked like a tattoo under his watch strap? Much easier to explain. Still, he didn't want to risk rubbing the thing off, so he kept his right hand in his pocket.
The wards kept him and his dad safe from any passing evil entities that might feel like possessing them again, but Dan could still feel all the Wrong that seemed to be smothering Derry, and it was making his head ache so bad that walking round to the car park on his own just wasn't an option for him. He ended up leaning against the handrail, one hand up to support his head, and tried not to think about the weird headless ghost he’d seen amongst the stacks as they were leaving the library.
Some guy in a gray suit walked past as he was fumbling his sunglasses out of his jacket pocket, glared over at him and muttered something about how fucking drunks needed to get jobs instead of making the place look untidy and he had a sudden disconnect back to being in his twenties and hopping from place to place on all kinds of buses, carrying everything he owned in his duffel. Rubbing at his lips, he almost reached for a bottle that wasn't even there, and struggled to pull his thoughts together. The sooner they were out of here, the better.
***
The whole place just felt... Gross. He had no better way to explain it, it was like there was weighted slime that coated you when you walked into Derry. You just couldn’t see it. Jack tried to shake off the feeling, as he exited the library, bag packed and ready to go. He was out soon enough to hear the complaints from the guy in the gray suit.
"Yeah? How about nosey busy bodies mind their own damn business and they don't get to feel what the weight of a fully packed suitcase against the head feels like." His tone wasn’t overly hostile. But the words were clearly not friendly. Nobody talked about his kid like that, not while he was around.
Jack wasn't dressed too far off from the guy in the suit. Except he opted for a sweater instead of a jacket. And was sure he’d lose that once they got below the Mason-Dixon line. But he had smartly worn a short sleeved collared shirt underneath.
"You alright Doc?" He wasn't going to mention how wrong that guy had felt. He had just managed to resist the urge to let the shiver that coursed down his spine rip.
***
Dan managed a quiet grunt in reply as he pushed himself away from the handrail, then looked round at his dad. "Need to get gone," he said, "this place is fucking with my head." He'd been fine on the station. He'd taken painkillers about half an hour before they'd come through, since he'd thought something like this would happen, but fucking hell, not this bad, and definitely not this quick. It was like the worst hangover he could remember having. And under all of it was the unwanted need for a drink that should have been well under control.
The guy in the suit was watching them from further up the street. Dan frowned as he noticed, and briefly wondered why the hell someone would go to the bother of getting such an expensive-looking suit, and then put bright orange buttons on it. The suit guy grinned when he noticed Dan looking at him, although how he knew was anyone’s guess since Dan had sunglasses on, and Dan's skin felt like it was going to crawl right off of his body. Too wide a grin, too many teeth, Jesus fucking Christ.
"We gotta go, right now," he told his dad, as the orange buttons became pom-poms and the too-many-teeth became too-many-pointy-teeth.
***
Jack was practically growling. He didn't know why that guy pissed him off so much, but he was considering going over there and punching him in his smug smiling face, and making him swallow a few of those... pointy teeth. What the fuck.
"Yep. Which one is us?" He doubted it had an alarm they could use. But then he set his eyes on the huge van. And the guy in the gray suit was ignored for a moment, as a grin spread over his face. "Oh. I'm definitely driving first." And probably the whole trip. It wasn't quite a camper, but almost. He'd always wanted to drive a camper.
***
Dan picked up on his dad's sudden anger and reached over to put his hand on Jack's arm. The combination of his Derry-induced headache, whatever the hell was making him thirsty for alcohol in a way he hadn't been for years, and his dad's flare of temper was making his head spin. And then Jack was grinning and Dan felt a little bit like he couldn’t keep up.
He closed his eyes and gripped a little tighter to Jack's arm as he used his Shine to see what he could do to get the grinning asshole to leave them alone, but all he got was an image of the clown he'd seen around town a couple of times - it waved at him with someone's severed arm - and then there was nothing. He staggered, like a drunk he'd been pushing against something stuck in place that suddenly moved far too easily. When he got his feet back under him again, he looked round to where the weird guy had been, but all that was left was one of the orange pom-poms. Dan had no intention of going to pick it up.
"You can drive. I feel like shit," he said, carefully unclamping his hand from Jack's arm. "And I think... I think that was Bill's shape-shifter. I'll have to let Abra know, she's seen it too."
***
Either it was the disappearance of their friend or Dan's tightening grip on his arm that snapped him out of whatever had fogged over his mind, and made him violently angry. He dropped his suitcase and tried his best to help steady his son. That was more important. "Okay." He glanced up, back to where the man had been. Huh. An orange pom-pom. That wasn't weird.
"I have to wonder what would have happened if we didn't have the wards," he said absently as he leaned over and picked up his suitcase again. "Let's get you situated, then. I bet that thing has a bed in the back, if not a couple." He tried to guide Dan toward the Benz Conversion.
***
"I don't want to wonder," Dan replied, a hand pressing against his temple as he stood there, "because I reckon it'd have me running for the nearest liquor store." He let Jack help him along, careful with his footing as he went, and forced himself not to rub at his lips. His tells weren't needed just now, and he didn't want a drink (he did), this was not coming from him and he wasn't going to give into it.
He stopped when they reached their van. "I'm not lying down, I'll be fine in the front with you," he said, and struggled a little to get his duffel bag over his head so he could sling it in the back. He could do whatever unpacking was needed at their first stop, not... not here, where that weird fucker was still lurking.
"Think we could head for Frazier?" he asked, even though he knew it would be very different than the Frazier he knew.
***
Jack was fairly sure that he wouldn't have resisted slugging the guy the first time he heard him open his mouth to talk down to his kid. He might have even been tempted to just get in the van and run him over. He opened the back door when Dan tucked himself into his seat and put his suitcase behind the seats.
"Absolutely. I mean, no I don't want to see the train again." And instead of going to the drivers side, because, honestly, he was curious. He got in through the door he had opened and climbed into the front from between the seats. Yeah this would be cool. He was fairly certain that there as at least a toilet hidden by the one door in the back.
Snapping his seatbelt in place, after he was seated, Jack gave Dan a little smile as he slipped the keys into the ignition. "So any particular reason why you want to go to Frazier?"
***
Dan leaned his head against the window as he waited on Jack getting ready to go, then looked round at the click of the seatbelt. "I guess... I'm just hoping it'll feel familiar. Feel like home," he admitted. And if he happened to notice any places for sale or jobs that his mom could do in the area, he figured that dropping hints about moving north and getting to know a guy called Billy Freeman wouldn't be that awful of a thing to do.
"Where do you think the best place to stop and get coffee's gonna be?"
***
"I don’t know, the next diner outside Derry probably. That's going to be my stop anyway. Otherwise we have to wait for a rest stop and vending machine coffee." Jack made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. He couldn't say he’d ever had good vending machine coffee.
Driving the van proved to be fairly easy. Sure it was big, but it still drove like a truck. "So do we have a plan for Wendy? Or are we just going to wing it?" To be honest there was no telling how she would take him being alive, and Danny being a forty year old man.
***
"As long as it's outside Derry, sure," Dan replied, his head leaning back against the head-rest before he stuck his hands in under his sunglasses to rub at his eyes. Daylight was very bright.
There was a kid walking along the sidewalk outside the library, Dan noticed, as Jack pulled out of the car park and onto the road. The kid was soaking wet, water dripping from his hair and clothes, and his skin was pallid and bloated with algae clinging to it in places. When he looked round, Dan couldn't help but notice that the kid had silvery-gray eyes, and they were locked on him. It grinned at him and waved bye-bye before leaning over and vomiting up far too much filthy-looking water all over the sidewalk. "Jesus," Dan muttered and shifted in his seat, turning to look round at his dad instead. He half expected to see the Overlook's version of Jack, and then he might actually have screamed. But no, it was still his dad, asking about plans.
"I have no plans past knocking on the front door," he admitted. This was going to go well.