Just Couldn't Help Myself

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, studying the black haired man’s profile carefully. He was standing in my living room, looking through the window down at the street outside. I‘d somehow talked Murphy into going upstairs to his own apartment. The black haired man‘s eyes… I had to know, had to understand what was happening. “How do you know my name?” I wanted to ask about those eyes, but…

He turned and fixed me with that cold stare, his head tilting slightly to one side. “You aren’t crazy.” he said, and I snorted. “Between me and the cat, you should’ve figured that out. You’ve seen this before.” he ran his thumb along the underside of one eye. “You met yourself, but the other you was a Traveller.”

“Who are you?” I repeated. “What’s a Traveller?”

“Travellers can slip between different whens and wheres.” he said, and shrugged. “We’re a dying breed.” he sat down on the couch and put his feet up on my coffee table. “Something’s happening with you. I read your files. Lena’s got awful computer security.” he laughed at this and shook his head. “Where’s this talking cat?” he asked.

“Hiding somewhere.” I said. “He doesn’t really talk, I’m just-”

“You’re not crazy.” he said again, then laughed. “I thought I was crazy, too, you know. When I learned about it, I mean. The slipping. That’s when I started seeing Lena. She specializes in people with religious hysteria, which is what she thinks you have.” he shrugged. “Not everyone she sees is like that, though. Me, she thinks I’m just delusional.”

“Will she see a connection between us, do you think?” I asked, concerned.

“Maybe. I wear contacts most of the time, and we didn’t say the exact same thing, so maybe not. Does it matter?” he leaned forward and studied me. “She can’t help you, you know.”

“You still see her.” I said, and he nodded. “If she can’t help and neither of us are crazy, then why-”

“I like people with secrets.” he said with a little smile. His smile was crooked, shark like, attractive in a scary way, just like the rest of him. “Lena’s got more secrets than any person has a right to. Besides,” he looked away from me. “We don’t see each other in a patient/doctor capacity.”

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed. “So if I’m not crazy, and Lonnie really does talk, and you really can… slip?… from one time to another, then this whole thing about the devil is real, too?”

“I don’t know about any of that.” he said, and stood up. “Lena made an offhand comment about you today, and it got me thinking, so I looked at her files.”

“Well, that’s professional of her.” I grumbled.

“Do you have anything to drink?” he asked, and I got up and lead him into the kitchen. We sat at the kitchen table for a little while, and finally he said, “I almost forgot.” he dug through the inside pockets of his jacket and eventually came out with a white folded slip of paper. He held it out to me, and after a moment’s hesitation, I took it.

Unfolding the paper, I almost starting laughing. “Are you serious?” I asked him, and he nodded. “Well, thanks, I guess.” Two hundred dollar credit at a cellphone store close to my building. I read the receipt, and noticed he’d blacked out his name and credit card number with a marker. “You still haven’t told me your name.” I said, and tapped the blacked out name. “Why don’t you want me to know?”

He chuckled. “Oh, that’s not my name.” he told me. “You think I have a credit card?”

“Then who’s…” I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“It’s Deacon.” he said, and I thought the name suited him. He rocked the kitchen chair back onto two legs and folded his arms across his chest. “You and the ginger, is it serious?”

For moment I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. Then it clicked. “Who, Murphy? I don’t know.” I bit my lip, staring at the receipt rather than meet his gaze; his eyes made me nervous. “Lonnie thinks it could be him.”

“It could be me.” Deacon pointed out. “If it could be him, though, why risk nailing him?”

I flushed, and clumsily explained my plan about the tattoo. Deacon roared laughter. “That is my kind of plan.” he told me, still laughing. When he’d stopped, he wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and asked, “Well, how can you be sure I’m not this devil guy you’re looking for?”

“I’m not looking for him, he’s looking for me. I’m supposed to stay away from him.” I looked away. “And I don’t know how to tell whether you’re him or not. It’s not like I can use the Murphy technique, so I think-”

“Who said you couldn’t?” he asked, and when I turned red again, he started laughing again. “I’m fucking with you.”

“So what do you want?” I asked, and he looked at me as though he didn’t understand the question. “From me, what do you want? What am I supposed to do?”

He thought for a little while before answering. “I’ve lived in a lot of whens, Johnny.” he said finally. “And I’ve only ever met one other Traveller. You aren’t a Traveller, but you could be. I want to help you.”

I sighed. “Help me what? Learn how to slip? Find the devil? Cope with this bullshit?” I shook my head. “I need lots of help, Deacon, what are you offering?”

He half smiled. “What are you willing to accept?” He countered, and I looked away. “You’re a stubborn man, aren’t you?”

“No more than anyone else.” I told him, and he nodded before standing up. “So what?”

“So nothing.” he said with a shrug. “I’ll come back, when I feel like it. We’ll see.” he came around the table and braced his hands on the side of my chair before leaning down and getting in my face. “You know how special you are?” he asked softly, his crazy, painful eyes searching my face. “You know how amazing you are?”

“I feel like a freak. I feel crazy, Deacon.”

He nodded. “I get it. More than anyone, I get it. It’ll go away, I promise.” one of his hands came up, rough and callused, and touched my cheek. “We need to work on these.”

“You want to teach me.” he nodded. “Why?”

He stood up and stepped away. “It’s lonely.” he said. “I hope you don’t ever have to understand how lonely it is.” he turned and left my apartment without another word. For a while I sat there, staring at the receipt, trying to sort out my feelings.

Lonnie padded in, looking disgruntled. “I don’t like him.” he said, and leapt up into my lap. “I don’t trust him.”

“Noted.” I mumbled, and he sighed. “Where were you hiding?”

“I was just hiding.” he said vaguely. “I’m hungry.”

I stood up, cradling the cat to my chest, and got him a bowl of my antipasta salad. He picked through it, discarding most of the vegetables but eating the meat and noodles. We didn’t talk, and when he was done, we went to bed.

I barely slept at all.

The next morning, feeling groggy and uncomfortable, I got dressed and went down the street to the coffee shop. I got my drink and sat by the window with the book I’d been trying to get through for the last two weeks, and tried to clear my head. I was halfway down with my coffee and almost completely into my book when the chair across from me slid out and Murphy plopped down into it.

“Christ, you scared the hell out of me.” I told him, pushing my hand against my chest. He smiled and took a drink of my coffee.

“So who was that last night?” he asked, and I sighed.

“A… friend.” I said, and he nodded, though his eyes were screaming ‘liar!’ at me. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I wasn’t sure when he’d be stopping by, and what we had to talk about was important.”

“Okay.” he said, and leaned back, taking my coffee with him. “I saw you through the window. You look like hell.” his eyebrows rose a little. “Rough night?”

I sighed and ran my hands through my hair. “I didn’t sleep with that guy.”

“Who said you did?”

“You’re insinuating-”

“Hey, we’re just neighbors.” he said with a shrug. “No big deal. I’m just not accustomed to guys like you, that’s all.”

“Guys like… what?” I glared at him. “Deacon’s just a friend, Murphy, and if I was fucking him, why would I try to fuck you?”

He grinned. “Is that what you were trying to do?” he asked, and I sighed again. “Look, I’m not trying to give you a hard time, I just like honesty, you know? Especially from guys trying to fuck me.”

“Well, if you want to be technical, you tried to-”

“Oh, sure, blame me.” he said, and laughed. “Well, if you’re not fucking the leather clad hottie with the scary eyes-”

“Deacon, and no, I’m not.”

“-then maybe we can see each other later and you can get around to fucking the redhead hottie with the totally rockin’ ass.”

I started laughing, I just couldn’t help it. He laughed with me, but when I looked at him carefully, I could tell he was serious. “I think we could work something out, yea.” I said.

“Good.” he stood up, leaned across the table, and kissed me. It was a slow, almost sweet kiss, but he nipped my lip as he pulled back, making me gasp. “Why don’t you come to my place tonight? Say nine?”

I agreed, and he left the coffee shop without another word. I tried to get back into my book, but he’d effectively distracted me, so I gave it up and went back home. Lonnie was awake when I got in, prowling around the kitchen, and I made him breakfast before settling on the couch to watch a movie. He came in later and curled up on my lap, his huge green eyes trained on the screen.

“What’s with you?” I asked him, and he ignored me. “You’ve been really… I don’t know, affectionate. Always on me. I thought you were mad at me.”

“I am mad at you.” he said without looking at me. “But I am a mammal, and most mammals have the need for physical contact. You’re the only one around, so…” he finally turned his head and gave me a curious look. “So you don’t think you’re crazy anymore?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I’m still crazy.”

“But Deacon-”

“-is just as crazy as I am.”

“What about Murphy?”

I shrugged. “Like you said, physical contact. Besides, I like him. And before you start, I know he could be the devil. We’ll find out soon enough.”

Lonnie sighed. “You’re going to get us killed.” he said. “Why not just keep it in your pants?”

“And then what? Turn into a hermit? Never speak to another person again for fear that they’re the devil? That’s stupid.”

“No.” he stood up, balancing on my chest. “What’s stupid is the fact that you’re still not taking this seriously.”

He jumped onto the ground, and I reached out and caught him by the tail. He yowled and swiped at me, but I avoided it. “You’re jealous.”

“I am not. That’s the stupidest-”

“You’re upset that I’m human. That I can have what you can’t.”

“I’m upset that you aren’t who I thought you’d be. I’m upset that you’re such an idiot. I’m upset that you’re pulling my tail.”

I let him go, and he swished his tail back and forth, looking furious. “You aren’t telling me the whole truth, Lonnie.” I said, and before he could argue, I added, “You tell me this bullshit, but you don’t explain. You think that’s enough. Who says I have to take your word for it?”

“It’s not just you that’s in danger, Johnny, don’t you understand that? Everyone dies. I told you, everyone you love.”

“I don’t love anyone.” I said, and he sighed.

“Maybe that’s why you’re so different this time.” he said. “I wish I could see what it is that made you this way.”

“What does it matter?”

He shook his head. “Maybe being as different as you are will change it.” he said. “Maybe he won’t come this time.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked.

Lonnie sighed. “Maybe. Maybe not. I don’t know anymore. Everything’s different.”

“You keep saying that, but you never say how.”

He regarded me carefully, his lime colored eyes narrowed. “Jay loved me, Johnny.” he said. “He wasn’t stupid. He knew what I was, knew the chances of me ever being a person again. He loved me anyway. He loved so much, could see so much beauty and good in the world, even after he met that man and everything fell apart… and here you are now, and you love nothing. What kind of life is that?”

“You think I like being this way?” I snapped at him, and he shook his head.

“Jay gave up what little he’d managed to save to come here for you. He gave me up, made me promise, like all the others did. They all did this, because they all believed that somehow, it could be stopped. That for one of them, things could be right. I’ve lived through so many lives, through so much pain. To sit here and watch you not care, not feel, not be a person… I don’t understand. Why can’t you love? What happened to you?”

“What do you love, Lonnie?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I love you. Even this you, I can love, because I have to believe that somewhere in you is the same thing I've loved about all the others. Why would I do what I’ve done if I didn’t?” he turned and stalked away, and I was left there with no way to internalize what he’d said.
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