Title: Refracture Author: ren Fandom: Askewniverse Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob Archive: Go on, Charles. You know you want to Series/Sequel: This is a prequel to Tunnel Vision Rating: R for language, drugs, and a gratuitous penis Notes: I had to finish this one. It was haunting me. There will eventually be a sequel to Tunnel Vision, clearing up all the loose ends in Refracture, but I'm still writing that one. Summary: Jay's starting to see weird things lurking in the corners, and he takes it out on Silent Bob. Bob gets out while the getting's good. Jay meets an old friend, who introduces him to a new friend. Things get strange. REFRACTURE When he was nine years old, Jay had secretly decided that he wanted to be a doctor. He saw the doctors on television, on the hospital show that his mom watched every day after the buzz kicked in, and realised that in the grown-up world, wearing a white coat and stethoscope made a man into a god. They gave all the orders, they had all the sex, and they never got arrested for giving people drugs the way his mom's friend Cyrus had before the police shot him in the belly. If Jay had been a doctor then, he'd decided, he could have fixed Cyrus up; sewn him back together right there on the road and his mom wouldn't have had to find a new dealer. Eighteen years on, and Jay figured he was as close to that dream as he was ever going to get. He couldn't usually see straight enough to thread a needle, so sewing people back together was out, but he had a tubby bitch of his very own to boss around, he got his fair share of pussy, and if he didn't actually *give* people drugs, he at least sold them at such a low price that it was *practically* giving them away. 'I am a god,' he decided, nodding comfortably to himself. 'If I was on a hospital show, I'd be the smooth bastard with the accent, or I'd be the guy who... oh, fuck...' Jay's eyes widened as he thought suddenly of the Best Job Ever. 'Fuck yeah. I'd be the fucking gynaecologist. Yeah. Chicks'd be all `Oh Doctor Jay, I got this disease and it's making me all wet and horny, and the only cure is your big cock in me - no, your *giant* cock in me.' And I'd be all 'Yeah bitch, you want this baby?' and I'd climb up on the table with my white coat on and she'd be all `Oh, oh, you're so big and hard Doctor Jay' and have multiple orgasms, and I'd be all turning her on more with my fuck noises, I'd be all `Uh, uh, yeah bitch, yeah, uh, uh, take it like that baby, take it, uh, uuuuuh...' "Mmmm yeah." A quiet noise from beside him made him jump, and his hand drew guiltily away from where it was rubbing at his crotch. Silent Bob was staring at him, his eyes huge and stunned, and Jay scowled, feeling the unsatisfied throb in his balls compete with the burning in his face. "Fucking what, you tubby bitch? A man can't fantasise in his own home now?" Silent Bob's gaze flickered down to the bulge in his pants, then back up again. If anything, his eyes got even wider. Jay scowled at him. "Oh, fuck you. You're just jealous 'cause I'm the dick of this operation and you're hung like a baby kitty." He thrust his hips up suggestively, and smirked at Bob's flinch. "Yeah, you'd love to get your hands on this, you gay fuck. Too bad though, 'cause I ain't gay like your fat ass. You want meat so bad, get in the fucking kitchen and eat a hot dog." Silent Bob's mouth thinned and he got up, stalking into the kitchen. "And make me a sandwich while you're in there!" Jay hollered after his retreating back. Alone on the couch, he relaxed and let his gaze fall on the blank television screen with something like relief. He knew he'd been twitchier than usual lately, jumping at shadows and snapping for no good reason. Nastier, too, and Bob's silences had become heavier and more accusing each time Jay opened his mouth to insult him. He wasn't sure exactly why he'd been so on edge; just that for the past week or so he'd been feeling a strange itch beneath his skin, like wanting something he couldn't describe and wouldn't recognise if he saw it. Bob was no help, jumping in sympathy every time Jay's skin tightened on his bones, and it was making him more and more irritable with every passing hour. For the past few days he'd begun seeing odd flashes of... *something* out of the corner of his eye, and it was starting to freak him the fuck out. Once in the mall he'd been walking past a store window and mistaken his reflection for another person walking beside him, mocking him and mimicking his every move. When he'd spun to confront it, his own face had stared back at him, twisted by rage into something unrecognisable, and the jolt of dread that ran through his chest had left him weak and shaking for an hour. He remembered that feeling now, every time he tried to catch a glimpse of whatever this thing was, dancing just outside his range of vision. A flash of movement from the corner of the room made him jump; his foot kicked out in spastic reflex and upset the half-empty bottle on the coffee table, spilling beer into the oversized, overflowing ashtray. Dark grey water ran over the table's edge and dripped into a foul-smelling puddle on the carpet, and Jay stared at it in frustrated anger. The couch cushions dipped as Silent Bob sat down beside him, and they stared at the carpet together in silence. After a while, Bob shifted beside him and took a deep breath. "I swear to God, tubby," Jay told him through gritted teeth. "If you say one thing about Jedi mind tricks, or if you tell me some story about how once you knocked over a beer while you were chasing Amy and it taught you some big lesson about life, I'm going to eat your fucking spine with a fork." Bob closed his mouth, settled back against the couch cushions, and handed him a sandwich, all without taking his eyes off the growing stain at their feet. The silence between them grew and thickened, winding Jay tighter and tighter until he could hear his own pulse thundering in his ears, almost drowning out the click of the lighter as Silent Bob calmly lit the last cigarette in the pack. The sight of the empty cardboard took Jay's last nerve, stomped on it, tied it into a bleeding bow and flushed it down the toilet. "You fat fucking turd," he growled quietly, almost tasting the bile that dripped off his words. "You queer-ass cock-sucking son of a bitch cunt. Give me that fucking cigarette or I'll tear your fucking balls out through your fucking nose." A part of him cringed away from what he was saying, even as the insults and threats kept firing. It didn't even *sound* like him, not really. The words were his, but the tone was off, like he was being filtered through someone else. Someone *mean*. The silence from beside him continued, though, and the uneasiness was abruptly washed away by a tidal wave of sheer rage. "Fuck you," he spat, and jumped to his feet, tossing the mangled sandwich over his shoulder. He kicked out at the dripping coffee table and it flew across the room, narrowly missing the television to make an impressive dent in the wall. "You think that makes you so great, that not-talking shit? It doesn't, bitch. It just makes you sound stupid. It makes you sound even stupider than me. Actually, no, fuck that. You don't talk, so it doesn't make you sound like anything. It makes you sound like nothing, like a big fat fucking nothing. There ain't no mystery there, bitch - just lard. Get the *fuck* over yourself." He watched, vibrating with tension, as Silent Bob calmly picked the overturned ashtray up off the floor, snuffed the cigarette and got to his feet, pulling his coat around his body and still not saying a word. "Well?" Jay was shrieking now; he could hear himself, like some drunken bitch fighting with her boyfriend, and he didn't care. "Fucking say something, you mute motherfucker!" Silent Bob looked straight at him then, with the blankest, coldest eyes Jay had ever seen. He stared in silence for a moment, and then cocked his head slightly to one side as he spoke. Just the one word, but it was enough. "Goodbye." Time seemed to blink then, as far as Jay could tell. One minute Silent Bob was standing there, freezing him with his eyes, and the next the space in front of him was empty and the door behind him was closing with a quiet click. He blinked, and shivered slightly, staring at the Bob-free couch in confusion. What the fuck had just happened? The cigarette hadn't been stubbed out completely; its embers were still glowing slightly and a thin trail of smoke was rising up from the ashtray. Jay picked it up and raised it to his lips, smoking the remainder down to the filter in silence. Slowly, he exhaled the stale-tasting smoke and felt a sneer curve its way onto his lips. "Sad little bitch got his feelings hurt," he muttered, and stabbed the cigarette out viciously, grinding the butt until the last few flakes of unsmoked tobacco spilled out into the ash. He toed the pack on the floor, cursing when he remembered it was empty. "Serves the fucker right anyway, smoking my last cigarette," he snarled. "Bitch knew I been twitchy lately. Don't know what he's so pissy about - I'm the one stuck here with no fucking smokes. Bitch probably went to stand out front of the Quick Stop all soulful and 'oh, look at me, I'm all sad and lonely, take me home', and some sad chick's gonna feel all sorry for him and take him home and let him bone her." His eyes widened in outrage. "So that tricky fuck's out swimming in pussy right now, and I'm stuck here all alone with no smokes! Fuck that. *Fuck that*. I need some action. Yeah. And cigarettes." With sharp, angry movements, he shoved his wallet, keys, carry-stash and miniature peace pipe into his pockets, and jammed boots onto his feet. Gazing around briefly, he looked at the stained floor and dented wall, at the litter of cigarette butts and ash on the carpet and at the scattered remains of his sandwich, which was already beginning to attract cockroaches. He nodded decisively, spun on his heel, and marched out of the apartment. Somewhere in Jersey there was a party, and it was calling his name. ------------------------------------------------- Literally, as it turned out. The smell of bourbon and weapons-grade hash drew Jay in the direction of a house near the cemetery, and as he got closer the ground was vibrating beneath his feet. The minute he got near enough to hear the music that blasted from the house's backyard, he could also hear the plaintive wail that floated over the fence. "Jaaaay! Where's Jay and Silent Bob, man? This is like little kiddie shit, here. They must smoke this shit in the preschools. Toddlers laugh at this shit. We need - Jay!" The complaint swerved sharply into a surprised cheer, as Jay hoisted himself over the fence and landed on the grass with his arms spread wide. "Never fear," he announced grandly. "The blunt master is here!" He swaggered towards the group of people clustered around the fire. "Come to me, children," he intoned, "and I will feed the hungry." Bypassing the good stuff in his carry-stash, he pulled a fragrant baggie from his back pocket with a flourish, and a cheer went up from around the fire. Feeling a little like Santa Claus (if Santa ever gave out really good weed), Jay placed joints into eager, outstretched hands until the bag was empty, then sat down on the grass with a cigarette cadged from a guy with purple hair, and a beer that someone had tossed him over the fire. His ass was getting damp, but he figured it was worth it to sit around a fire with a group of grateful friend-slash- customers, none of whom had bothered to introduce themselves. The fire was hot and the beers were cold, and as the night wore on his face was getting pleasantly numb. It was kinda quiet, though. In fact, Jay realised with dumb, stoned surprise that he himself hadn't said a single word in over an hour, and that thought was enough to propel him to his feet, hollering for someone, anyone, to for-fucks-sake throw him a drink and who was going to give him a goddamn cigarette and this music sucks, put something good on and *turn it the fuck up already 'cause I can hear myself think*. Snippets of a conversation across the yard behind him made him frown, and the thing that had been nagging at the back of his mind since he got to the party suddenly clicked. "Jay without Silent Bob, man, it's not natural." Murmurs of agreement, and Jay squirmed. "It's like Terence without Phillip." "No, man, it's like Bert without Ernie." Silence for a moment, and then: "It's, it's... dude. It's like a porno without the money shot." Porno? *Money shot?* The world flashed abruptly red before Jay's eyes and he shot to his feet, his beer tumbling unnoticed to the ground. "That's it," he growled. "That's fuckin' *it*!" He whirled to face the two guys muttering near the fence, and they flinched back slightly from the look on his face. "I'm only gonna say this once, you fucks," he spat at them. "I don't need Silent Bob or his money shot. I'm a fucking porno on legs, and I got your money shot right *here* bitch!" Snarling, he tore his pants open and pulled his cock out, shaking it at them. They looked at him silently, their faces absolutely empty of expression, and he glanced down. His cock sat limply in his hand like an overcooked noodle, pale and absolutely non-threatening. "Oh," he said forlornly, and hiccupped. A sob rose in his throat for no good reason, and he swallowed it. They were right. Without Silent Bob around, he was... "You okay, man?" one of the guys asked him hesitantly. He sniffled, and tucked himself back into his pants. "No," he sighed. "I'm a monkey without a banana." The other two made various sympathetic noises at him, and one went so far as to pat him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm gonna go home," he told them, and they nodded wisely. "Hope you two work things out, man," one guy told him. "You're no fun sitting around with a face like a kicked ass." Jay sniffed again, loudly. "Yeah," he mumbled. "I'll see you guys around wherever. Oh, and if you see Silent Bob, tell him..." he trailed off, with his eyes fixed on the damp grass beneath him, and then shrugged. "Tell him to get his ass home or he'll miss all the good cartoons." He didn't bother hoisting himself over the fence; just wandered alongside it until he found the gate and fiddled with the latch until it let him out onto the street outside. ------------------------------------------------------ The world was oddly silent as he walked home, used as he was to the echo of other footsteps beside him. He lit two cigarettes absently, passing one to his right, until he remembered that no one was there to smoke it. Scowling, he stuck both smokes between his lips and inhaled stubbornly. *Waste not want not.* *I am in flavour country.* *Stupid Bob. First he smokes all my cigarettes, now the bitch is making me fucking waste them. Hope he's at home all craving and shit while I'm here smoking two cigarettes at once.* His head began to spin with nicotine overload after a while, and with the dizziness came the return of the flickering shapes at the edges of his vision. He hadn't even noticed they were gone, but the familiar build up of jitters beneath his skin seemed worse than usual for having been away, however briefly. He quickened his pace, gritting his teeth and ignoring the flashes on the periphery of the world. Though the area of town was familiar, in the early hours of the morning it seemed oddly crooked, malformed; sinister somehow. The small, shadowy shapes crowded closer as he walked, almost completely visible, and when a larger shape darted right in front of him he yelped and pulled back his fist to strike, stopping at the last minute when he saw a familiar face. Clearing his throat, he straightened up and nodded coolly. "Hey, Billy. Long time no see, dude." "Jaaaay!" Billy looked weird in the shadows, lined and wrinkled like an old man, and half his teeth were missing. Jay wondered if he was taking too much speed. "My... man... Jay. Good to see ya, kiddo." He was swaying oddly as he spoke, rocking from one foot to the other, and his hands twitched incessantly in weird, spastic motions. Jay leaned away from him slightly and snorted. "Man, you're wasted. Go home to the old lady before you get run over or some shit." Billy's lower lip trembled, and his pale eyes filled with tears. "No more old lady," he moaned piteously. "She left me, Jay. Left me all alone..." he leaned forward then, a crafty look coming into his eyes. "But I got something better. Wanna taste?" Jay took a hasty step back and peered at him suspiciously. "Dude, are coming onto me? 'Cause you know I ain't gay. You know that, right?" "Ssshhh," Billy soothed him, his hands patting the air. "Ssshhh kiddo, I know that. Not talking about sex, am I? Got something much, much better. Here," he said, his voice deepening slightly, and he held out one hand. "Because I love you, kiddo. Take one of these." Jay looked at the little blue pill sitting on his palm and frowned. "What the fuck is it?" Billy cackled, a little hysterically. "Hell if I know, little boy, but damn if it isn't one hell of a ride. Take it - it won't bite." Jay shrugged and took the pill, storing it carefully in an empty pocket. "How much I owe you?" Billy's eyes widened. "Money? Hell, kid. I don't want your money. 'Cause money, man, that'd fucking *ruin* it, you know? This shit is special. This shit is *above* things like money. You got that?" "Yeah," said Jay warily, and began backing away. "Yeah, I got it. Thanks, Billy. Maybe I'll see you around sometime, yeah?" "Yeeeah," crooned Billy, and a thin line of drool slipped from his mouth to hang, glistening from his chin. "See you. Around." More spooked than he would ever admit to anyone, Jay waited until he'd turned the corner and then fled; bolting through the darkened streets like the devil (or Billy) was on his tail. Rushing towards home and resolutely ignoring the *things* that remained just out of his line of sight as he ran, he panted a desperate mantra to himself with each harsh exhale: Get home. Don't talk to anyone. Get home. Don't talk to anyone. Get home. Don't talk to *anyone*. He wondered if this was how Bob had picked up his habit of silence: frightened into it by familiar strangers at three o'clock in the morning. As if the thought of Silent Bob conjured up the sight of home, his apartment building loomed up before him; the first thing he'd seen since leaving the party that didn't seem tilted or wrongly shaped. He wheezed for breath as he staggered up the stairs, and forced his shaking hand to hold still long enough to fit the key in the lock. Almost falling through the door, he gazed about him with a sense of relief that lasted maybe three seconds; no more. Bob wasn't there. He was still gone, somewhere, and apart from Jay the apartment was empty. Silent as the - 'Shut the fuck up,' he told himself viciously, and turned on every light in the place, including the one in Bob's bedroom. It made everything seem a little more like home, especially when he switched on the TV and turned the volume up loud. Three beers and an industrial-sized cone later, everything started to look a bit less flickery around the edges, and more than slightly fuzzy. Jay exhaled a lungful of sweet smoke and melted back onto the couch, sprawling out and staring in stoned fascination at infomercials for 18 carat diamond kitchen knives that could cut through shoe leather and accessories - both at the same time! On the verge of reaching for the phone to order one, he paused. Silent Bob would murder him in various creative ways if one of those suckers arrived on their doorstep. That thought reminded him; the sun was coming up, and still no Silent Bob. Determined not to get worried like some frilly-aproned house bitch, he yawned and decided to turn in. Just on dawn; he liked the idea of it. Vampire Jay. "Just let that silent bitch come home now," he mumbled to himself. "I'll bite his tubby ass, and then he'll be sorry." Turning out his pockets as he undressed, he frowned as his fingers closed on something small and cold. Peering at his hand, he realised he'd completely forgotten the little blue pill Billy had given him gratis, in between bouts of spooking the fuck out of him. He shrugged. Better to take it when he was awake enough to appreciate the trip, he reasoned, and placed the little pill carefully in the tiny red box that he kept special for just such an occasion. Then, figuring he was undressed enough, he tumbled into bed and was asleep in seconds. When he woke, late that afternoon, Silent Bob still wasn't home. What the fuck? He told himself that worrying was what clingy girlfriends did, not dominant partners in non-sexual relationships. Then he ate some cereal and played Playstation for six hours straight, stopping only to pack and pull cones. Eventually, even he had to admit that he was worried. And bored. So fucking bored that when the phone rang he crossed the room in a split second, snatching up the phone like he thought someone might steal it. "You've reached the home of Bob and Jay. We live together but we ain't gay. Silent Bob, that you?" There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a bemused-sounded voice. "Um, no? And how the fuck would you know if it was Silent Bob, anyway? Not like he'd speak up and tell you. Does he even use the phone, or does he stick to email and shit?" Jay took a moment to ponder that, and then shook his head. "Nah, he uses the phone. I can tell it's him 'cause he breathes all heavy and shit, the fat fuck. I swear, he's gonna have a coronary one of these days. Hey, Simon." "Hey. Listen, dude, you heard about Billy yet?" "No I didn't hear about Billy, I been stuck in this place since I left your goddamn party. He finally get busted for his jagged little pills?" "Oh, wow. No. Dude. He tried to catch a bus." "Tried... what, they didn't let him on?" "No, no, no - dude. I mean literally, he tried to catch a bus. Stood out in front of it with his arms open." "Did... he catch it?" "Nope. Bus caught him, though. Spread his fucking carcass all over the road with his insides on the outside. They're already callin' him Roadkill Bill." Jay shook his head sadly. "Silly Billy." Simon snickered. "William the Bloody." "Ain't that the dude with the hair on that show with the bitch?" "Hell if I know. Hey, are you coming to the funeral? They're cremating the guy, so we're gonna go see if we get stoned off his smoking corpse." "Fuck no. Fucker had more vodka in his body than blood. They light his ass, half of Jersey's gonna go boom." "Oh come on, it'll be cool. Contact high, like... death by osmosis, yeah?" Jay shuddered. "Fuck. You. That's too sick even for me." A hard cackle on the line. "Never thought I'd see the day. Fine, be a pussy about it. I'll send you a postcard." Hearing a sharp click and the dial tone, Jay snorted and hung up. Midway back to the couch, he paused as the news about Billy finally penetrated properly. "Fucking... wow." Even creepier that one of the last things he'd said to the guy was a warning not to get run over. *Dude. I should go on the psychic hotline.* Even if he wasn't going to the funeral, he decided, Billy should at least have a proper farewell. Nodding and humming to himself, he danced into his bedroom and retrieved the little blue pill from its box. Back in the living room, he sprawled on the couch and turned off the Playstation, flicking channels until he found some cartoons. Weird, old cartoons, but still cartoons. As the theme music played, he saluted Billy with the pill and swallowed it, washing it down with a mouthful of warm beer. "Heh. Just wait 'til Silent Bob gets home and sees me having fun without him, all not worried and shit. That'll teach that fat fuck to have tantrums and run away from home like fucking Dorothy." That last thought struck him as incredibly funny all of a sudden, and he bent double, howling with laughter that cut off all of a sudden, as the pill kicked in a lot faster than he was expecting. Feeling a weird, happy calm stealing through his nerves, Jay smiled droopily. "Look who's going to Oz now, bitch," he slurred. Something was coming, he thought, with an itch of almost sexual anticipation. Something fucking *huge*. "Ssh," said Elmer Fudd. "Be vewy quiet. We're hunting wabbits." Something stirred in the corner of the room. The lights went out. And Jay's smile widened, showing teeth, until suddenly it wasn't a smile anymore. Not even close. ---------------------- That's the end. Next comes Tunnel Vision. xx ren, finally