Just Couldn't Help Myself

A/N: Hi again people! Thanks for reading, and continuing, with my little story here. Here’s some more for you! I wrote this in between bouts of my GM responsibilities on my MMORPG, so it might be a little weird… plus I don’t have a beta, so forgive any mistakes, please! =) Well, I’m still not sure what’s going on with all of this, but I might have more of an inkling than I did last night. I hope you enjoy it, and again, let me know what you think or where it should go, yea? =)
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I cradled the phone in the crook of my shoulder and scowled. “No, that’s not an acceptable date.” I told the woman on the other end. “I told you, I need to get an appointment as soon as possible. Three weeks is not going to work.” I heard her list of reasons why three weeks was the closest possible date she had, sighed heavily, thanked her, and hung up.

“You’re being ridiculous.” Lonnie told me matter-of-factly. It was sitting on the kitchen table beside the stack of papers my insurance had priority mailed me. Apparently I’d sounded like I’d really needed it. “You don’t need a therapist, Johnny.”

“The fuck I don’t.” I told it. I took a drink of my coffee and crossed another name off the list. I followed the ninth number with the tip of my finger. “Now, shush, vocalizing feline, I’ve got calls to make.” I punched in the number and put the phone against my ear, and ignored Lonnie as it jumped off the table and stalked away.

“Dr. Nunnelly’s office.” the sweet sounding voice that came down the phone was high, light, actually pleasant for once today.

“I’d like to make an appointment.” I said, holding my breath.

“Do you have a reference?” she asked, and I groaned.

“No, but I-”

“It’s fine.” she told me. “It’s a required question, that’s all.” I sighed with relief. “Was there a particular date and time you were looking for?”

“As soon as possible?” I asked.

I heard the quick, efficient sounding clatter of keys on a computer. “How’s this afternoon?” she asked. “Two thirty?”

“I… what?” I asked, and she laughed, a tinkling bell sound. “Really?”

“This seems to be your lucky day, sir. We had a cancellation less than an hour ago.” I agreed to the time, and she asked for my name. I told her it was Jonathan Lowes, gave her all the information she asked for, an agreed to be there a half an hour early to finish paperwork. I hung up, feeling both better about the whole thing and suddenly nervous.

I glanced at the clock above the kitchen window. It was a little past nine. I showered and shaved, got dressed, then grabbed my keys and wallet, thinking I’d run down to the deli at the end of my block and pick up something for dinner before I had to set out for my appointment.

As I stepped out into the hall, Lonnie followed, and I glared down at him. “Really?” I asked it, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, really.” it replied.

I sighed and shut the door, locking it behind me. “Okay, but you’re not coming in the deli, I don’t care. You stay outside, you got it?”

“That is so cute.”

I flinched and turned, my flushing. There was a young red haired man standing on the landing, a cardboard in his arms. The bow was labeled ‘kitchen’ and he was grinning at me. “I, uh…” I glanced down at Lonnie, who looked back at me and meowed innocently.

“I talk to my cat, too.” the redhead said, and chuckled. He walked over and crouched down, setting the box aside and reaching out to scratch Lonnie behind the ears. I almost told him not to, but Lonnie started purring like crazy and bumped up against his hand. The redhead grinned wider. “You’re a big one, aren’t you?” he said to Lonnie, sliding one long fingered hand along the cat’s spine. “A little worse for wear, I see. A rescue?” he asked me, looking up and fixing me with big coffee colored eyes.

“Something like that.” I said hoarsely.

“What’s his name?”

“Lonnie.”

“And yours?” he asked, standing up.

“Johnny.”

He held out his hand, and I shook it. “Lonnie and Johnny, that’s just adorable.” I flushed again, which made him laugh. “I’m Murphy. I’m new to the building.” He was sweet faced, freckled, with huge dimples and perfect teeth.

“Welcome, then.” I said, and he thanked me and let go of my hand.

“Cupcake‘s an outdoor, too. Maybe they’ll get along.”

I looked a him, bewildered. “What?” Then I realized he was talking about the cats. “Oh. Right. Yea.” I looked over at Lonnie who was regarding Murphy carefully. “Cupcake?” I repeated, the name finally sinking in. “Really?”

Murphy laughed again. “She’s a rescue, too. I didn’t name her.” he shook his head. “I might be fruity, but I’m not that fruity.” before I could internalize this, he picked up his box, flashed me another smile, and got walking again. “It was nice to meet, you Johnny and Lonnie.” he called over his shoulder. I could hear him laughing all the way up the next stairs.

I stood there for a while to collect myself. Then I looked down at Lonnie and shot my thumb behind me, towards the stairs. “Is he the devil?”

“I certainly hope not.” Lonnie replied with a swish of his tail. “Best petting I’ve had in a long time.”

I bit back whatever my brain wanted me to say to that, and instead I went downstairs. Lonnie stayed behind me, and he stayed quiet, thank God. I walked down to the deli, pausing halfway through the door to make sure Lonnie wasn’t going to follow me in. He didn’t, opting for sitting beside the ‘Daily Specials’ sign with his tail curled over his paws.

Inside, I picked out some good bread and a nice steak, then chose a smaller one for Lonnie, feeling a little ridiculous as I did. As I waited for the man behind the counter to finish ringing me up, I watched the people in the store with me. Was I really starting to believe Lonnie? I felt foolish, looking at others, expecting to see something that most of me knew, hoped, prayed wasn’t there.

I paid for my things and stepped outside, suddenly feeling disjointed and a little afraid. For a moment I just stood there with my eyes closed, and somehow the sound around me seemed muted, faraway. I started to feel sick, as though there were hot, wriggling things in the pit of my stomach, and abruptly I couldn’t breathe. It was like the air was suddenly not air at all, but something viscous and thick, something that coated my nasal passages and throat, cutting off my air and tasting like rancid honey

I heard something then, above the dull, blown-speaker toned roar of the city around me. It was like… wooden wind chimes, maybe. So clear, so real, and for a moment I was so terrified I thought I was going to throw up.

Then the top of my foot erupted into white, burning pain and everything snapped back into reality. I gasped and looked down, and met Lonnie’s wide, angry eyes. His nails were in my foot, punched neatly through the top of my thin canvas shoe.

“Fuck!” I growled at him, and jerked my foot away. “What the hell?”

“Focus.” Lonnie told me. “No need to go slipping around places you don’t belong just yet.”

“I… what?” the cat ignored me, and started off towards my building again. I chased after it. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nevermind.” it said shortly. “Don’t do that, again.” it stopped and looked up at me. “Promise.”

“Promise what?” I asked, stopping too. “I don’t even know what I did.”

“It’s starting to thin you, Johnny.” Lonnie said with a tiny shake of it’s head. “The slipping, I mean. It’s easier to do now because you aren’t as here as you used to be.”

“You aren’t making any sense.” I told the cat, and felt like kicking it. “I’m so crazy.” I muttered.

“Let’s go home.” Lonnie told me, and started walking again. After a minute, I followed.

I left for my appointment at quarter after one, and took a cab to Dr. Nunnelly’s office. The receptionist at the desk asked me my name, then handed me some forms to fill out. At first they seemed pretty typical of doctor’s office’s; name, age, address, phone number, that sort of thing. Then there were questions of medical history, both mine and my parents and siblings, which I had a little trouble filling out. I had no siblings, which was easy, but my father left before I could walk and my mother had died when I was nine. I’d been raised by my Aunt Sarah. I decided to skip those entirely. As for my own medical things, up until I’d gone crazy the day before, there’d been nothing out of the ordinary; I’ve never broken a bone or had any serious illnesses, and I didn’t think the attack with the letter opener was what they were asking.

I finally handed my paperwork back, and the receptionist escorted me to a room in the back to wait. The walls were pleasant cream colored, the carpet a muted brownish red, the furniture dark but somehow comfortable and unobtrusive. There was two padded chairs and a loveseat under a window, and a bookshelf full of reference texts. I sat on the chair nearest the door and waited.

About ten minutes later Dr. Nunnelly came in. He was short and broad, with receding dark brown hair and pleasant, if squinty hazel eyes. He shook my hand, his grasp gentle but sure, his skin warm and dry against my sweating palm. Then he sat on the loveseat, set his clipboard on his knee and regarded me carefully.

“So, Mr. Lowes… may I call you by your first name?” he asked his voice crisp and deep and welcoming.

“Johnny.” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’m Dr. Nunnelly.” he said. I uncapped his pen and smiled at me, and somehow that smile didn’t seem professional at all. Maybe he practiced at home in the mirror. “What caused you to make an appointment with me today?” he asked, and glanced down at his clipboard. “It says here you were rather insistent.”

“I didn’t think it could wait.” I told him, and put my folded hands between my knees. “I went crazy yesterday.”

One of his eyebrows lifted very slightly, but he simply nodded and stayed quiet. I took a deep breath and wondered where to start.

“I was walking home from work last night. Ten o’clock, thereabouts. Nothing was different. I was a few blocks from home, and I heard someone say my name. So I looked up and I saw…” I stopped, scowling. “Well, I saw me.”

“What do you mean, Johnny?” he asked softly. “You saw a reflection of yourself? Perhaps in a store window?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean I saw me. A different me though. In an alley. Longer hair, and his… my… the eyes were different. Blue. Not normal blue. Like…” I thought for a moment. “Glowing blue.” I was staring off into space, remembering, and faintly heard the scratch-scratch-scratch of his pen on paper. “I guess I tried to say something, but nothing came out, and the other me looked down at said that I was surprised. He said it to a cat. A gray cat. And the cat said-”

“I’m sorry?” Dr. Nunnelly said, and I looked at him. “Repeat that last for me, Johnny, I think I-”

“The cat talks.” I told him, and he nodded. “It’s name is Lonnie, only it’s not really Lonnie, that’s just a nickname. And it’s not really a cat, it got turned into a cat by a witch with trust issues.” I felt the niggling sensation of hysterical laughter bubbling up in my chest and looked away from him, trying to push it back down. After a little while I felt mostly okay, so I went on.

By the time I finished, Dr. Nunnelly had stopped writing and was just sitting there listening to me. For a long moment there was silence in the room, and I wondered if he was going to get up, call the police, have me taken away. I could imagine it in my head; a bunch of guys in white coats bursting through the door, wrestling me into a straight jacket…

Dr. Nunnelly stood up, and I flinched. He stopped, looking curious, and I apologized and looked away from him. He shook his head to indicate it was fine and tucked his clipboard under his arm. “I’d like to refer you to a colleague of mine, Johnny.” he said quietly. “I believe that-”

“That crazy, huh?” I said, and he looked surprised.

“Dr. Shrift has much more experience in… assisting people with your concerns.” I stood up and shook his hand again. “Let me speak with my receptionist, and she’ll write you out a referal.”

“Thanks.” I said, not sure if I meant it or not.

He smiled. “Good luck, Johnny.” he told me, and left the room. I stared after him, bewildered and a little hurt, and way more upset and scared than I’d been when I’d first come in.

What the hell was wrong with me?