Dark Side of the Moon

by P. C. Rasmussen

  The younger man looked around the room for a moment, then suddenly turned back to Kyle and hugged him. That hug lasted longer than strictly necessary, but Kyle figured the kid needed some comfort right now, so he hugged him back.

  "It's okay. We're safe. You can sleep soundly tonight," he said quietly and patted Daniel's back lightly.

  It took a moment longer before Daniel let go and pulled back a step, looking a little embarrassed. "Sorry. I ..."

  Raising a hand to ward off what could become an awkward chick-flick moment, Kyle smirked. "Don't. It's not important," he countered. "Just get some rest, Daniel. You look like a hanged cat."

  That brought the first indication of a smile to Daniel's lips and he glanced almost shyly at Kyle. "I'm not usually like this. It's just ..."

  "I know," Kyle agreed. "Don't worry about it, okay? It's been hell and it's hard to unwind. I know all about it," he added and nodded at the wall-to-wall closet. "If I know Marie right, she has filled up that closet with clothes that will probably fit you."

  Daniel glanced at the closet too, a little taken aback. "Thanks," he muttered, then sent the bed an almost longing look. "Just an hour or so," he added almost as if speaking to himself.

  Kyle smirked and stepped back outside before turning back to face Daniel. "Everything responds to simple word commands. There are no curtains, but the windows dim. The lights go out if you say lights off. Stuff like that. You'll figure it out."

  With that, he left Daniel behind and headed back to the living room. Bark was not timid when it came to making himself at home. He had found a beer in the fridge and was stretched out on one couch, facing the window. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a lucky son of a bitch?" he asked and glanced up at Kyle with a smirk. "Man, this is the life."

  Kyle considered the beer and decided to forego alcohol for now. Instead he retrieved a bottle of water from the fridge, a few sticks of processed cheese - something he had always had an affinity for - and flopped down on the other couch. "It's good to be home," he said.

  For a while, they both just lay there and stared at the bustling cityscape out there, but then Bark glanced over at him. "You think he's gonna be okay?"

  Kyle frowned. "Who? Daniel?" he asked without taking his eyes off the vista.

  "Yeah," Bark agreed. "He seems like he's walking a tightrope right now."

  "Nah, I think he'll be fine. He probably needs to talk to a professional, though. Considering what he went through up there," Kyle said with a light shake of the head. "He's been through Hell - literally - and crap like that doesn't just go away; unless you wanna go for the chem-method, of course."

  Bark sat up and took a sip of his beer. "I've heard about that. Isn't it insanely expensive?" he asked.

  "Yeah, but I've got an insanely wealthy father who seems to worry about us," Kyle countered, let his head drop back against the armrest and closed his eyes. "A few high-intensity treatments and he won't remember his own name. Last I heard, they'd perfected the method down to a tee. Now they can actually remove specific memories only."

  "Holy crap," Bark muttered. The upholstery of the couch creaked when he got up. "This is one hell of a view you've got here," he added after a moment. "Man, I've missed this. Being able to look out the fucking window and see a blue sky. To know that you can actually go out there, that you can breathe out there. Before I got sent to the pit, I had no idea what I had."

  Kyle slipped one arm under his head and cracked an eyelid. Bark was standing there, one arm braced against the window, his beer in the other hand, while he watched the city. "I think that goes for all of us. The big difference here is, I have something to come home to. You, you probably know how to get by with or without funds. But Danny? He's lost. He's got nobody out there. His family doesn't want to know him."

  Bark turned around to face him, an almost easy smile on his lips. "Yeah, I can get by if I have to," he agreed. "I don't have any baggage to lug around." The smile faltered. "But you're right about the kid. Man, it must be tough to have family out there that doesn't want you."

  There was something about Bark's words that made Kyle think harder than he ever had before when it came to his own situation. He felt ashamed of his previous view on life. What did he have to be sorry about? He had everything, and it now dawned on him that he even had his father's affection despite his previous belief, that his father didn't care about him. "Yeah, not being wanted must be very tough," he agreed and sat up. "I always thought I had it rough," he added and smiled helplessly. "Man, I had it wrong."

  Bark chuckled. "Poor little rich boy, huh?" he asked and Kyle nodded with a rueful look in his eyes. "You know, I get it. Your dad ... he seems to be a bit of a salt pillar. Not much emotion, if you catch my drift. I don't blame you for thinking he doesn't give a crap."

  "And yet he does. He's just got a funny way of showing it," Kyle countered. "I am going to bed. I am totally beat," he announced. "The second room on the right is the second guest room. You can crash there."

  Bark nodded. "I'm too wired. Can't sleep yet," he countered. "Do you mind if I channel-surf for a bit?"

  Kyle chuckled. A part of him wanted to do that too, but he was just too worn-out to even consider it right now. "Knock yourself out," he said. "Everything's more or less voice controlled. Simple commands. I'm sure you'll figure it out."

  "You got it," Bark agreed with a grin that made him look younger than his years. "Thanks man. Being under house arrest isn't too bad when you've got a pad like this."

  With a smirk, Kyle headed toward the master bedroom and found it in the same pristine order as the rest of the apartment. "Bless you, Marie," he muttered, kicked off his shoes, shrugged out of his jacket and fell face first onto the bed. "Screw the rest," he added sleepily and let the darkness descend over him.

  ***

  Waiting isn't all it's cracked up to be

  The sense of being home, of being content, only lasted so long. After two days of house arrest and no word from his father, Kyle was beginning to feel cooped up. Of course, technically Whitmore Sr. had said nothing about house arrest and only indicated that he needed to know if they went somewhere, but Kyle knew what that meant. Unless it was life threatening, they weren't supposed to leave the apartment.

  Bark had attacked Kyle's computer terminal with a vengeance and was in hog heaven because of the access it granted him. He had promised Kyle not to hack into anything important, but the guy was obviously addicted to surfing the virtual highways.

  Daniel was a different matter and he was the main reason that Kyle didn't throw caution to the wind and leave the place in search of a party where he could drown his memories of LPC. The kid had developed an obsession with cleanliness. He showered about three times a day and always for at least an hour. When he wasn't trying to scrub his skin off, he sat on a chair by the window wall and stared out at the city. Generally, he said fairly little, and Kyle was really starting to worry about him at this point.

  "Bark, get off the console. I need to call Marie," Kyle said and shooed the hacker away from his favorite pastime.

  "Alright already," Bark said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "What bug crawled up your ass last night?"

  "You need a job," Kyle countered indifferently, settled down in front of the console and called up Marie.

  "Kyle. What can I do for you?" she asked the second the connection was established.

  "You can get my father on the horn," he countered without looking directly at her.

  "I'm sorry, Kyle. Your father is tied up in meetings all day. Is there anything I can do?" she countered, and it was just what he had expected to hear.

  "Yeah, maybe," he said and sent a brief glance back out over the living room. Daniel was gone, which meant he was showering again. "You can find a shrink for Danny," he said and returned his attention to Marie, now focusing fully on her.

  She arched her brows. "That bad?" she asked.

  "Worse," he agreed with a nod. "Find
someone good, will you? Someone who can do more for him than just talk him to death."

  Marie was a sharp cookie and she understood what Kyle was asking. "What's the background story?" she asked.

  He hadn't told his father about the atrocities Daniel had been through, had only hinted that things hadn't been good for him, and because of that, Marie didn't know what Daniel's problem really was. "Rape," he said and grimaced. "Repeated, violent rape".

  Her expression was easy to read and there was a slight amount of shock there. She wasn't easy to shock, which told Kyle that she was really rattled by this. "I will find him a good doctor. Someone who can really help him," she promised and cut the connection.

  Kyle leaned back on the chair and just stared at the blank screen for a moment. "And now I just have to convince Danny," he muttered.

  "Of what?"

  Daniel's voice made him jump. He turned the chair to face the younger man, yet again dripping wet from another unnecessary shower, and took a moment to study him. The shrink was one way. But there was the chem-therapy as well. And Kyle knew that his father would pay for that without question. The treatment his father had already arranged had removed the majority of the scars. The big one on the side was still vaguely visible, but Kyle figured Daniel could get another treatment or two to remove it completely. That, of course, would never remove the scars in his mind. "First and foremost ... I think you should have a few sessions with a shrink," he said and got up. "And then there's chem-therapy. They target specific memories and kill them."

  Daniel stared at him for a moment. "Kill them?" he asked, frowning.

  "Yeah. They can kill them," Kyle agreed.

  "They remove bad memories?" Daniel asked.

  Kyle nodded. "Yeah, that's what they do," he agreed. "But, listen to me, and listen good, okay? This is a last resort. There is the risk of something going wrong. You don't want to end up like a drooling vegetable, do you?" he asked, to which Daniel immediately shook his head. "Well, I think you should go for the shrink and the removal of the rest of the scars," he suggested, nodding toward the remainder of the scar on Daniel's side. "Without any physical signs and some good tools to handle things ..." He trailed off, leaving it up to Daniel to decide.

  The younger man eyed him for a moment, then trailed over to the couch and sat down on it. He thought about it until Kyle sat down across from him. "The shrink and the scar removal I agree to," Daniel said. "But I'm not sure about the chem-therapy. I don't like the idea of someone messing with my head."

  "That's probably a wise decision. If it gets too bad, or the shrink can't help you with the memories ..." Kyle started, but Daniel cut him off.

  "It's not that bad, Kyle," he said. "I know it happened and ..." he paused and briefly chewed on his lower lip, the look in his eyes distant, "... I do have nightmares about it sometimes. But it's getting better. And ... it's not like it will happen again, right?"

  Kyle smiled. "Not if I can help it, no," he agreed. "But I do think the shrink is a good idea. He can give you some tools to handle it if it gets too much."

  Daniel eyed him for a long moment. "Why are you doing this? I mean ... we're back on Earth. Technically I don't need protection any more. So ... why are you doing this?"

  That was actually a good question. Kyle considered it, thought about various reasons, but when push came to shove, there really wasn't all that much he could say about it. It was a gut instinct, a connection he had felt with Daniel ever since he met him. "I don't know," he said. "Because I can?" He smirked. "I like you, Danny. And you've been given a rotten deal here," he added. "Besides, you saved my life up there. I owe you."

  "What? Are you boys having a little heart-to-heart?" Bark's tone was sarcastic enough to scathe.

  Kyle looked up to face him, noting that there was under-the-surface tension. "What's with you?" he asked, not taking offence at the insinuation.

  The somewhat crooked smirk slipped off Bark's lips and he ended up looking like a sulky kid instead with his lips pursed and the corners pulled down a little. "I don't know," he muttered. "Have I told you that I don't like confined spaces?" he added and smirked again.

  "Going stir-crazy?" Kyle asked and shook his head. "Where did you live before? In an open field?"

  Bark laughed out loud, living up to his nickname again. "You're funny," he proclaimed, wagging a finger at Kyle. "Thing is ... I don't like being told I can't go out if I want to."

  "You haven't been told that," Kyle shot back. "If you do leave, my father just wants to know where you are so he can get a hold of you if necessary. That's all."

  "That's all?" Again Bark laughed and there was something a little manic about it that reminded Kyle of something ... he just couldn't really put a finger on it right now. "That's beautiful. We're under house arrest here," Bark continued and mopped a hand over his brow. "Man, this place is hot," he added and looked around, obviously searching for a thermostat.

  "The temperature is optimum," Kyle countered, frowning. "You seem a little too hyper right now. Did you drink too much?"

  Bark suddenly looked worried, his gaze skipping all over the place while he licked his lips. "I don't know. Do those vitamins you have in the kitchen count?"

  "Vitamins?" Kyle frowned. "What ..." And then it hit him. "Aw, shit. Tell me you didn't touch those."

  Bark rubbed the back of his neck, then again mopped a hand over his brow. He was sweating now and looking a little queasy on top. "Guess you keep other things than vitamins in your vitamin bottles, huh?" he asked.

  "Yes, you idiot. That's where I kept drugs," he agreed and strode into the kitchen, yanked the door of the cabinet over the sink open and groaned. Whoever had done the cleaning hadn't considered the presence of vitamin bottles in various shades and sizes to be a problem. The fact was, they were all filled with anything other than vitamins.

  "You're telling me I'm high?" Bark asked. His hands had started jittering.

  "Yes, you are. Best you can do is find something to do or go to bed until it's over," Kyle said and pushed all the pill bottles into the sink. He opened the lid of the first one and stared at the content for a moment. Then he poured them into the drain and proceeded to do the same with all the others. The plastic containers he threw in the trash.

  Bark was pacing around the living room, muttering under his breath, and Daniel just sat there and watched him, still dripping, wrapped only in a towel.

  "Dan, go put some clothes on," Kyle said. "Bark, stop pacing. You're not making it any better."

  "Who keeps drugs in vitamin bottles?" Bark asked gruffly and gave Kyle a dark look. "I mean, come on! This is ... crap. I can't see straight. Who does drugs? How is this fun?"

  Kyle couldn't help himself. He chuckled. "Your first time?" he asked and Bark gave him a sour look, then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

  "Fuck, this crap messes with my perception. I do not like this," he stated and flopped down on the couch.

  "Pete's biggest invention when it came to drugs was to make them look like vitamins. Since this crap is super illegal, it was very important to hide them. The coating on each pill is a vitamin. So any scrape test would reveal nothing but vitamins," Kyle said and opened the fridge, briefly noting that Daniel had disappeared into his room. "How many did you take?"

  "Two," Bark said and waved his hand in front of his face, frowning at the result. "This is sickening, man."

  "Yeah. Once it wears off, you'll get very tired," Kyle warned. "Lying down or going to bed is probably the best choice."

  Bark keeled over on the couch and pushed himself into position, eyes closed. "Next time, warn a guy, will you?" he complained.

  "Why do you do drugs?" Daniel had returned, now fully clothed, hands in the pockets of his jeans.

  "Because I was an idiot," Kyle countered with a smile. "I thought I had it really tough and nobody understood me. I thought my father hated me and blamed me for my mother's death. Lots of crap like that. Booze and drugs were an
escape for me."

  "Man, this sucks," Bark groaned from the couch.

  "Shut up and try to sleep it off," Kyle countered.

  ***

  Days like these

  Marie managed to get Daniel an appointment with the shrink and whisked him off to see him the following morning. Bark had slept most of the night and a good part of the morning away, and Kyle was getting a bit antsy by the time noon came around.

  Pacing around the apartment, he felt a bit like a caged animal and it annoyed the hell out of him that his father hadn't been in touch with him yet. He stopped in front of the window wall and stared out at the city. "Might as well still be up there for all he cares," he growled.

  "Who? Your dad?" Bark's voice was gravelly and when Kyle turned back to face him, he was a bit taken aback by how crappy the man looked. "I've got a hangover from Hell, man. That's just about the worst experience I've ever had. Not counting my three year stay in the pit, obviously."

  "Obviously," Kyle agreed. "And yeah, my dad. His silence is starting to bug me. I can't get in touch with him. Marie keeps blowing me off with him being tied up in meetings and shit."

  Bark yawned heartily, ruffled his hair and glanced around the living room. "Where's our resident nutjob?" he asked.

  "He's not nuts," Kyle countered a little grumpily. "And he's off having his first session with a shrink."

  "Nice one," Bark said and flopped down on the couch. "Do you have any food in this joint? All I found last night were some crackers. The rest is all this health crap."

  "You shouldn't complain," Kyle suggested. "At least it's all fresh. But if you're set on clogging up your arteries with crap ... all you gotta do is call the first junk food joint on the phone list. They have my account on file."

  "Sweet," Bark muttered, got up again and shuffled over to the phone to call for some takeout.

  Before Kyle could come up with something to do - something that didn't involve wandering aimlessly around the apartment - the door chimed. "Open," he called, not really caring who might be on the other side. "Come on in," he added to whoever the visitor was.