InsaneJournal

Who: Heather Miller and Agent York
What: A movie night turns into Heather finding out that she's in said movie.
When: October 7, 2016 Night
Where: Heather's Place
Rating/Warnings: Teenish/Talk about movie gore, but nothing too bad.
Status: Complete



The end of September had ushered in loads of candy being piled on shelves, pumpkin everything and horror movies galore on TV. Heather wasn't one for scary movies, or too much pumpkin in everything, but she did enjoy Halloween. She'd invited York over for dinner, and movie. It would be nice to just spend a chill evening in with a friend, and besides, she was pretty confident that they could find something to watch on TV.

Dinner had been steaks that she'd brought home, along with some roasted red potatoes with fall squashes, rolls, and green beans. Heather thought she'd done a decent job if she said so herself. She'd left the television on in the living room, on one of the movie channels, and she wasn't paying it much attention as another movie began to play. She could hear the snap of a camera, the shrill staccato of horror music, and she thought idly that maybe they should change it once they were out of the small dining area.

"Want a beer?" She asked, the sound of a chainsaw coming from the television. She gave the TV a glance, but then shrugged it off as she moved to the fridge to pull two beers out. Heather had heard enough chainsaws in her life, or rather, her dream life to not want to hear another one. "Ugh, why do chainsaws have to be involved? You know, I still have no idea what I'm going to do with my cousin's chainsaw that showed up here." It wasn't as if she would need it, but the dreams had seen fit to bring her Jed's last chainsaw. Moving into the living room, she plopped down beside York on the couch. "Here you go." She held out the beer to him, a smile on her face before she propped her feet up on her coffee table.

Her eyes went to the TV again, watching it as a cop car started driving down the road.

When Heather invited York over for dinner and movie, York was pretty sure that probably meant dinner and movie and more. So he came prepared. Dinner was absolutely amazing. She was one hell of a cook, York thought. Better than his sister-in-law, though don’t tell her he thought so! He accepted the beer and leaned back, draping one arm along the back of the sofa. Smooth. (Thankfully, York had requested that Delta sign off for the night, so he could have some privacy with Heather. York knew the AI would have some opinions about the movie or the dinner, and he didn’t want to deal with any of that tonight.)

“Chainsaws are scary?” He offered, then shrugged his shoulders. “At least, some people think so.” He lifted the beer and gulped from it, then set it aside. “Don’t worry. I’ll distract you if it gets too scary.” Flirt, Flirt.

Heather snorted, "Apparently. I mean, they are a staple of every haunted house during Halloween too." Heather didn't get the appeal, but of course, not very many people had been chased by actual chainsaws with real blades on them. Not that Heather had experienced that in real life, but again, her Dreams felt real enough. Lolling her head to the side, Heather looked over at York with a small smile. "Oh, I'm sure you'll think of plenty of things to distract me with." She gave him a wink, but then a voice on the screen caught her attention.

Heather glanced back over at the television, brows drawing together. Her heart nearly stopped as she saw the same man from her dreams there on the screen. He had hair sure, but that man was…"No…" Heather spoke softly, leaning forward in her seat, completely riveted on what was happening on the screen. It was then that she spotted her mother, then Burt and then her adopted father tossed a molotov into the house catching people on fire. Heather's hand went up to her mouth, "Oh my god." She spoke behind her hand, "That's...this is…" She shook her head, "That's my mom." It sounded crazy to her ears, and she was sure that York would think she was crazy.

"I mean, these are people from my dreams." She pointed at the television, not entirely sure what the hell was going on.

So, that was the point where James should have wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her close. But then she was shaking her head at the screen, distracted by the people there. He turned his attention back to the television and frowned slightly. It was just a horror movie. But the way Heather was reacting…

“What?” He asked. “Your mom’s an actor?” But then it clicked. She meant the characters in the show. How could that be? He was confused. “You’re Dreaming about this? Or just… dreams. Is it Dreams or dreams?”

Heather reached up, fingers rubbing over her temples. "Dreams, as in getting-chased-by-my-cousin Dreams." Heather still wasn't sure of it herself, but the names they were using, everything about it was wrong on so many levels. Heather wasn't sure what to make of it. "Okay, okay." Heather tried to rationalize everything, "Maybe there's just some random possibility that it's just a coincidence right?" She glanced over at York, not wanting to look at the television for the moment while the house burned down on the screen.

York was watching her carefully, trying to figure out what on Earth was going on. Maybe she’d seen this movie before, and it settled into her subconscious? That could make it come out as dreams. At the same time, he was wondering about his own Dreams. He didn’t watch SciFi.

“I have no idea. Have you ever seen this before? I mean, maybe you’ve seen it, and it just… stuck around in your mind?” He asked, turning his eyes from her to the television.

Shaking her head, Heather closed her eyes and took in a steadying breath. "I've never seen this movie before, at least, I don't remember seeing it." She could, however, remember seeing it in her dreams. Well, not this part exactly, she'd had fuzzy memories of it but nothing like this. Heather reached up and combed her fingers through her hair, and her eyes went back to the television as Arlene picked up the baby, or well her, and the burn mark was quite visible. It was exactly the same one as Heather had on her chest, and she reached over to pick up her beer and took a long pull from the bottle. "Fuck…" She breathed out after taking a long drink, and then there was a photo taken. A photo that Heather had in her possession after she'd been gifted the box of police information from her dreams.

York sat for a moment, watching the show. He wasn’t sure what to say or to think, and for a moment he felt a little strange about being shown something so intimate--so clearly something she wouldn’t want anyone else to see. It must have been traumatic for her, and he felt both like an outsider and an intruder.

“Are you… okay?” He asked, once there was a lull in commotion on the screen.

"I...have no idea how I feel." Heather replied, giving a shake of her head before she reached up to raked her fingers through her hair. The sound of a meat saw caught her attention, and there she was there on the screen sawing through a rack of ribs. "Okay, yeah no." She reached forward for the remote, changing the channel quickly. "I had to live through that once, I don't...I don't want to see my ex cheat on me again with my best friend or watch my cousin kill all of them again." She just, no, she couldn't deal with this at the moment. Heather took another sip of her beer, thinking that it might be best to get something a little stronger.

Damn. Heather was on the screen. York really hadn’t been expecting that, and then? Then she started talking more about her Dreams, and the horrible shit she’d been through. He wished he could give her some kind of comfort, but it felt like wrapping an arm around her right now would be a bad idea. After the major mindfuck she was going through? He didn’t want to make things worse.

“I’m sure we can find Spongebob or something,” his attempt at lightening the mood was a little lame, but hopefully she appreciated the effort.

With a laugh Heather glanced over at York. She truly did appreciate the effort he was putting in here, but she wasn't exactly sure what she should be thinking. How was this even possible? She didn't understand, and she doubted that she ever would to be honest.

"Yeah here", she handed off the remote. "You find something that is not my life story while I go grab a bottle of whiskey and some shot glasses."

York was more than willing to let her do the thinking. He could do the distracting. He caught the remote and turned to click at the television a bit, giving a nod. “Whiskey it is.” He was absolutely staying the night now, there was no question. They could find some old, dumb cartoon and do shots. And if she’d let him, he’d rock her world to take her mind off things. Otherwise he was there to cuddle and drink and talk. Whatever she wanted, really. York was easy. He found the cartoon channel and it was playing some old Ren and Stimpy cartoons. Kinda disturbing, but at least it was better than scary movies.

Heather made it to the kitchen, and let out a long breath. Reaching up she raked her fingers through her hair again, pausing for a moment before finally dropping her hands. She could make it through this, she could figure it all out like she did before when she started having the dreams. Everything would be okay. Except right now? It wasn't okay. She wasn't okay. Pulling open one of the cabinets she grabbed two shot glasses, and then a bottle of Jack Daniels from the counter. "Ren and Stimpy, I can get behind that." She sat down on the sofa, and poured them both a shot. "Here's to a night of forgetting...again." Heather knew that the answer wasn't at the bottom of the bottle, but it would at least make her feel better for a little bit.

He probably should have followed her into the kitchen. In hindsight, as York watched Heather wander into the kitchen and out of sight, he realized that she probably needed him now. And he was sitting on the sofa, feeling a bit at a loss. Impotent. He tried to force his frown away when she came back in and poured them drinks. Then he accepted his glass and snapped it back, swallowing the thing in one go. He set the glass down afterward, feeling the liquor warm him from the inside. “Just tell me what you want me to do,” he offered, lamely. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

Heather had raised the bottle, ready to pour herself another shot when York spoke. She turned her head to look over at him, and then let out a long breath as she sat the bottle back down. "I don't know if there's anything you can do." She replied honestly, brows furrowing until a line appeared between them. "I appreciate the gesture, and everything but…" she trailed off, and then let out a defeated sigh. "Just hold me while we watch tv? Then we'll figure out something else to do that's distracting later." She shifted back on the couch, the bottle and glasses forgotten for the moment.

When Heather asked him to hold her, York was more than willing to comply. He lifted his arms to wrap them around her, pulling her in against his chest. Sure, they could get drunk and try to forget everything for the night. They still could. But maybe this--human connection, closeness, her back against his chest, his arms around her, his fingertips searching for and twining with her own?--would be enough to drive the demons away. For a little while. “Like this?”

The feeling of York's arms wrapping around her helped. She felt the warmth of his body pressing against her back, and she sighed softly as she gave his hand a squeeze. Looking up at him, she smiled even if it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, this is great." She shifted just a little bit, enough so she could lay her head back against him comfortably while still being able to see the television. Her body began to slowly relax, and Heather wasn't sure if she could attribute that to the alcohol or the intimacy of the hold that York had on her. Either way she'd take it, although she had a feeling that it had something to do with the latter more than anything else.

They should absolutely have more drinks. No talking, just drinks, stupid cartoons, and distractions. York would more than willingly provide those. He turned to bury his nose into her hair and broke into a grin. It was insanely comfortable, insanely intimate. He felt things in his chest that he really shouldn’t be feeling. Not now. Not when she’d just experienced something so traumatic and confusing. He’d come back to those feelings later.

He reached for the remote to turn the sound up a little. “That all right?” he asked. There were so many damn commercials. “You want me to find something else? You’ve got on demand, or something?”

She kept her eyes on the television, and gave a nod. "That's fine." She had to agree, however, that there were too many commercials for her taste. "I do, and Netflix. There's a button on the remote that you can hit for that if you'd prefer to find something on there to watch." Heather honestly didn't care what they watched at this point except for that movie. She was going to have to find out the name of it now, just so maybe she could watch it at some point and time by herself. Heather was too curious for her own good, and she just...she needed some sort of closure here in regards to it.

York nodded. He pulled up Netflix and found a special with some stand-up comedian. That had very, very little to do with whatever show they’d been watching that scared Heather so much. Some scary movie with a chainsaw? York was a little curious now, too, but he wouldn’t research it on his own. That would be some strange invasion of privacy, and he couldn’t get behind that.

He released her for a moment so he could pour them each another drink. At least they were drinking out of the glasses and not straight from the bottle. “Here,” he offered her the glass.

Heather shifted slightly as he released her, watching him as he poured them another drink. Heather took the offered shot glass, and tossed it back. She let out a slight hiss at the burning sensation that worked it's way down her throat. It was getting a bit easier with each shot, but the burn was still there. Licking her lips, she leaned forward to place the glass back down on the table. "Thank you." She felt the warmth of the alcohol working through her system, and she waited until York was finished with his before she leaned back against him.

"Seriously, thank you for everything." She tipped her head back to look up at him with a small smile.

York took his, too. It was warm from the inside, and that felt pretty good. He wished there was more that he could do for her. Hopefully he was helping. He settled back down against the sofa, feeling a little looser, a little more comfortable. Then he wrapped his arms around her again. “Seriously, you’re welcome for everything.” He said, and tipped his head down to gently kiss her lips.

She was comforted by York wrapping her arms around her, and Heather returned the kiss. Her lips turned up at the corners into a small smile as she pulled back, "Okay, no more drinks right now. I think I'm good for now." Heather didn't want to get stupidly drunk, and she was already feeling tipsy right on the edge of drunk. So instead of more drinking, or even thinking about everything else that had happened that evening she kissed him again.

“Good.” York replied. But then she was leaning over to kiss him again, and he was more than willing to return her attentions. His arms tightened around her, his mouth found hers. He kissed her with hunger and passion, but more than anything he wanted to kiss her with comfort. To take away her pain and confusion, and replace it with warmth and satisfaction. Positive emotions. His hand came up to cup her cheek.

This was enough for Heather. It was enough to help her forget everything, to forget the craziness that was Orange County even if it was just for the moment. She allowed herself to become lost in the kiss, to focus on nothing but York's touch. It was nice, and she would just take things one step at a time. That was all anyone in the OC could do really.