Monday February 16th 2009
Who: Fisher/Lily, Jane, and a ghost What: Making wishes and making changes Where: On campus, then to the BGH! When: Afternoon into evening Rating: PG 13
Fisher had been almost useless for Rez while he was sick. Sure, he could bring him soup and rub his back and put blankets on him, but because no one could see him, Fisher couldn't get real help. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't even leave the room, because when he did things went kind of black and when he came to later, he was just back in the room. Like he couldn't exist outside the realm of Rez's brain. What if Rez had needed someone right away, what if he had been dying, like really dying? Fisher would have been useless. He couldn't take it any more. There had to be something he could do.
Rez was sleeping, the antidote shot having taken a lot out of him, and Fisher was pacing the room. He had to think. Rez had conjured him up somehow... maybe he could do something to make himself real? Like Pinicchio, only less impossible and stupid. Though at the moment he'd take a blue fairy and a whale so long as it worked. "Shit," he hissed, biting his nails.
"What's wrong?" a small voice asked.
Fisher jumped, startled. "Jack?" he asked, looking her over. "Wait, you can see me?"
"Duh, you moron."
"But that... how? I'm not real!"
"Neither am I, at least... not to most people. But I was always real to you, wasn't I?"
"Yeah," Fisher agreed, leaning against Rez's desk. "But if I was dying, you'd be no help to me. And I need to.. I... he deserves better. He needs someone real, not someone who's like, slowly driving him insane."
"So... do something. Wish to be real."
Scoffing, Fisher shook his hair from his eyes. "Right. Cuz I've got a fuckin... genie just at my fingertips. Brilliant idea, Jack."
Scowling, Jack crossed her skinny arms over her tiny chest, her wat hair falling over her face like a tendriled curtain. "I've got one. But then you'd have to stop being a jerk to me."
"You have a genie?" he asked skeptically, not allowing hope to leap up into his throat because this was nonsense. Jack was not only dead, but she was crazy. Literally insane. She probably thought her pinkie toe was a genie.
"Uh huh. There's a bottle at that vampire teacher's house, Devon got to it and that's how he grew. I showed him how to get in the room."
Staring, Fisher's brow furrowed a moment, thinking. He remembered Rez talking about Devon, and him growing, and something messed up going on with it. And now Jack was telling him that she knew where a genie was, and knew how to get to it, and that this crazy wish in Fisher's head was a very real possibility. "But it... I can't. I don't even... unless Rez is thinking about me I'm not-"
"Don't be such a wuss. I can see you, so you're real enough."
"Yeah but I can't... I mean..." Now that it was possible, and it was becoming real, he was getting nervous. What if he could become real? What would happen? If he looked like this, and people saw him... what would everyone think? But then again, maybe it was worth it. Rez loved him, Rez had always done everything for him, and Rez deserved this. He needed someone real, someone who could be there for him. "How do I get to it if I can't even exist when he's not around?"
"Make yourself exist. That's how we work, we just... we believe it. So we are."
"You mean ghosts?" Jack nodded, and Fisher exhaled a bervous breath, slowly. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could do this, and if he just... if he didn't let go of being here, however someone could do that, then he would stay. "Okay. Let's go. Let's do this."
Scowling a little less, Jack stepped toward him, her head cocked creepily. She looked like a praying mantis, her eyes wide and staring, ever observing. "Okay. You remember the vampire's house? Just think about it. Go there. It's a lot faster cuz you don't have to walk or anything, you're just there."
"Yeah, guess that would be handy," Fisher agreed, dubious. Still, he closed his eyes and visualized the house, because what did he have to lose? If Jack was wrong, and things didn't work like that, then he was no worse off than before. He'd feel pretty stupid, but he'd be no worse off. He remembered the living room, sleeping in there one night with Peyton, and wearing Professor Witt's pajama bottoms... He smiled at the thought, recalling how they smelled so clean and were incredibly soft. And when he opened his eyes, he was in the living room of the big gay house. Jumping, startled, he exhaled a sharp breath. "Holy shit," he whispered.
"Come on!" Jack called impatiently from the steps. "It's up here."
It was feeling more and more real now, and Fisher swallowed as he moved, his feet heavy but determined. This was what he wanted, what he needed to do. Rez deserved this much. Rez loved him so much that he had created him, conjured him into being just because he had missed Fisher so much. No one else would ever do that for him. So the least he could do was try, try and give Rez something he really deserved. So with a deep, slow breath, Fisher walked up the steps, heading toward the study, toward possibility.