Title: The Year of Jay and Silent Bob: March Author: Joy (marcyleecorgan@yahoo.com) Fandom: Askewniverse Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob Archive: Well, of course. Series: Part 3 of 12. Rating: The entire series is adult rated, therefore it receives a R or an M, whichever system you use. Warnings: Terrorized!Jay Notes: This took far too long to write, and the next installment will probably take a little longer, what with school and all, but the Year shall continue! Summary: Jay and Silent Bob begin their self-induced house arrest. MARCH Silent Bob was becoming more and more sleepless as the days of February drew to a close. The strain of being Jay's muscle in a terrifying strain of events was tolling on him, and as a result, he lost sleep. Jay looked to him for strength, for comfort, and increasingly, physical distraction, and Bob was not quite prepared to give up what little he had reserved for himself. Jay never took it well when Bob slunk back into his impenetrable armor, walled off from anything being able to touch him. Bob had called the telephone company in an effort to stop the harassment, but all he had received in the way of help was an offer to subscribe to caller ID. In a petulant fit, he cancelled the phone service altogether, thinking that they never received many calls worth answering, anyway. So the calls had stopped, although every once in a while the phone made disturbing chirrups, as if it wanted to ring and someone had slapped a hand over its mouth. Jay found those even more distressing than the actual phone calls. He *knew* the frightening laugh was there, just lingering out of his earshot, like the echo without a beginning. His memory of the sound had kicked the fear level up a few notches, and Bob had to always be within reach, or he found himself huddled under a piece of furniture, quivering and wrapping his arms around his ears. Bob unplugged the phone and tossed it behind the marijuana plants in the closet, which were suffering due to Jay's sudden onset of a fear of being in a room alone. That was how March started, with Bob suffering from a massive case of insomnia and taking to wandering about the house, waiting for something else to happen. Jay remained twitchy, muttering underneath his breath things only he could hear, and bolting for safe hideouts at the slightest unexpected noise. As much as Bob missed going to the mall everyday, and getting out of the house, he couldn't take Jay with him, and the likelihood that someone would hurt Jay while Bob was away was a constant, lingering fear. But finally, after weeks of nothing but repeated video games, odd noises from the outside world making Jay whimper and shake like a newborn puppy, and the stifling odor they had created in a small apartment with hardly any ventilation, Bob had to escape. Jay blew up at him when he made a move to open the door. "Fuckin' hell no, Tubby! Doncha know if we's go out, somethin' gonna go down?! Fuckin' not gonna happen to me, no." Jay sank into the couch, holding himself against an invisible fear. Bob stepped away from the door, shrugging, and vanished into his bedroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. Not locking it, just shutting himself off. Jay didn't understand why Bob was acting this way. They had agreed to stay inside until whomever was tormenting them had either gone away or came knocking at the door. He ground his teeth a little, wincing at the pain the motion caused. Certain movements still hurt, though he had gained most of his mobility back. At least the important things, Jay thought, as he slid a hand beneath the waistband of his boxers. In his room, Bob was beginning to question doing the exact same thing, if only to keep his mind off the fact that he was trapped. He slowly ran his fingers along himself, over the fabric of his jeans, just feeling. He liked going slow about this sort of thing. His fingers slightly fumbled over the fastenings, like an overexcited teenager. He lifted himself gently out of his pants, avoiding the dreaded zipper, and squeezed the flesh hard, getting an immediate response. Running his palm along the underside, he curled his fingers down, gripping firmly and beginning to work himself into a rhythm. His head fell back, eyes closing, as he ran his favorite fantasy over and over in his mind. Had Jay probably known what was floating through his roommate's mind, he probably would have had to re-evaluate their entire relationship. Luckily, he was engaged in a fantasy of his own, which currently involved the heroine of the video game he was playing. "Oh yeah, baby, yeah," he murmured to the screen as the pixelated figure did a little victory dance. A few hours later, both of them were feeling sated enough to be able to enjoy each other's company again. They were lying on the couch, watching television. Or rather, Bob was lying on the couch, and Jay was leaning against him, sprawled on the floor. Then there was a knock on the door. Jay was on his feet in an instant, reaching for anything that could be used as a weapon, but only coming up with his prized bong and a couch pillow. Bob shook his head, walked up to the eyehole, and peered through. Noting that they were unlikely to be in any danger from the evangelists standing on their doorstep, he spun around and flopped back down on the couch. This calmed Jay down immediately, seeing as how his muscle was hardly affected by whatever worthless thing happened to be banging on their door. He carefully placed the bong back on the table and looked at it with an odd look, his eyes lighting up. He slipped away down the hallway to his bedroom, flicking the light on and checking on his plants. He gave them some water, checked them for any buds, and treated them all to the soft little tune he was whistling while he cared for them. Bob saw all this and a heavy load lifted off his heart. Jay was starting to come back out of his shell. Maybe this meant they could get out of the house. This all changed at the sound of glass shattering in the living room. Jay sprinted for Bob, only to stop dead in his tracks at the mess on the floor. It was some sort of brick wrapped in unidentifiable bloody meat, and wrapped tightly together with butcher's twine. Jay gulped and pawed at Bob's arm, unable to complete the act of grasping. Bob took Jay's arm and stroked it reassuringly, then went to the kitchen to find a plastic bag to scoop the brick into, careful not to get any of the still oozing blood on his person. Jay wouldn't detach from Bob, so the both of them got their first breath of real air as Bob hurried to the dumpster around the corner of the building. Jay's heartbeat was in his throat the entire time, and his lungs were working overtime right in Bob's ear. If it had been anyone but Jay, Bob would have been bothered, but the rhythm was Jay's, and that made it all right. The minute they stepped back into their stale apartment, Jay declared in whispered tones, "Maybe we go out tomorrow?" He had had a sudden realization of what they had missing while being holed in. Bob smiled indulgently at him.