The Possessor

Dominic

I can’t move, I can’t speak. My mother darts past, tells me to have a good day. Quinn doesn’t move either, just stares at me, his fingers curled protectively around the crystal hanging around his neck. I hear my mother’s car pull out of the driveway. Quinn licks his lips, his bloodshot eyes looking so wide, so glassy, and says softly, “Dominic, I need your help.”

I don’t really think about what I’m about to do. I drop my coffee cup, not really feeling the splash of lukewarm liquid against my feet, not hearing the ceramic shatter against the hardwood. I cross the space between us, not noticing my foot come down directly on a triangle of coffee mug, and grab him with both hands; one in the collar of his shirt, the other around his throat. He makes a startled shrieking sound as I back him up until his back slams into the far wall. His eyes widened even more, and he grabs my wrists.

“You son of a bitch.” I snarl into his face. “All these fucking years, and you-” I shake him, hard enough so that his teeth clack together audibly. “How fucking dare you come here and-”

“It’s sick.” he blurts out, and I freeze. “My Possessor, there’s something wrong.” I realize he’s crying. “Dominic, it’s sick and now there’s something wrong with me too, and I can’t-” he lets out a strangled sob and closes his eyes. “I need your help, please.” he whispers. “You’re the only other Puppet I know, and-” I let go of his neck and slap him. Hard. He bites his tongue and makes a low, sick moaning sound. “I’m sorry.” he whispers. “I’m sorry for everything. Just please, help me.”

I let go of him, and he slumps against the wall, putting his face in his hands. My foot is throbbing, and I look down to see the blood oozing between my toes. “Fuck.” I mutter quietly. I turn and hurry into the downstairs bathroom. I sit down on the edge of the tub and inspect my foot. The cut is small but deep. I disinfect it, letting my mind try to wrap around what’s going on, what’s happening in my living room. I wrap my foot up, then find an old towel and head back into the living room to clean up the coffee and blood.

Quinn is sitting on the chair by the window, his elbows on his knees, his head lowered. The crystal swings gently, catching the light and sending it shattering across his face and chest in rainbow spots. I can see the displacement of his Possessor, like the waver above a barbecue almost, and as I watch, it touches his face and he winces away from it.

As I’m mopping up the mess I’ve made, I ask him to tell me what’s going on. For a long time he doesn’t say anything at all. When he does finally speak, he simply sighs and says, “It’s sick.”

I roll my eyes and resist the urge to smack him around a little. “How long have you had a Possessor?” I ask him.

He frowns. “Three years.” he says. “My mother… it was hers. When she died, it… it attached to me. My father thought that was better than sending it one of those groups, you know, that find suitable hosts.” I nod at him. He pauses for a moment. “Alan and I have been best friends since grade school. His father, he’s… he’s a fucking racist prick.”

I snort. “Quinn, you’re kind of the last person to point your finger.” I tell him.

He nods. “I know.” he says miserably. “God, I’m such a fucking jerk.” he wraps his fingers around the crystal again and takes a long, shuddering breath. “I hid it for a long time. I knew what Alan and Mark would say. I was scared.”

“What happened to your Possessor?” I ask. I’m finished with the floor, so I sit down on the couch across from him. I know I’m going to be late for school, but somehow that seems trivial right now, even though I didn’t go yesterday. “How the hell does a Possessor get sick?”

“I took it off.” he tells me. He meets my eyes finally. “I took it off for weeks, Dominic.”

I sigh. I should’ve known. “Are you mentally handicapped?” I ask him. “Are you so stupid that you think you could actually function properly without it once you’d attached?”

“I knew what would happen. I just…” he ran a hand through his sandy hair and shook his head. “Vic found out. He said he’d tell Alan and Mark if I kept wearing it. I don’t know if he knew what would happen, but-”

“Let me get this straight.” he stops and looks at me, looking a lot like a beaten puppy. “You put your entire life, your health, in jeopardy because you were worried your friends wouldn’t like you if they found out you were a Puppet?” I use this word, knowing the effect it will have on him, and I’m rewarded with a wince and a fresh welling of tears. “On top of that,” I continue, “you somehow managed to make your Possessor sick?”

“It’s hot.” he tells me. “It’s like fire. I don’t… it’s never been like that before. Has yours ever-”

“No.” I say. “I’m not that fucking stupid.”

“You’ve never taken it off?”

I shrug. “I had it off yesterday, for a little while. Before that, I’d taken if off maybe a handful of times. Never for more than few hours.” I study him carefully. “You don’t have a good relationship with it, do you? Do you talk to it? Interact with it? Let it have control from time to time?” he shakes his head no to all of this. “You’re right, Quinn. You’re a fucking jerk. Don’t you understand that the thing around your neck is a living creature? An intelligent creature with emotions, feelings?”

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to me.” I snap at him. He covers his face with his hands again. My own Possessor slides out, caressing my face as it slides up to my ear.

“It’s not sick.” it sighs. “It’s sad.”

I tilt my head. “What do you mean?” I ask, and watch Quinn give me a curious stare out of the corner of my eye.

“We can’t get sick, Dominic. There is no virus, no disease, no bacteria, that can infect us. We have only one physical form, aside from our hosts, and it’s a piece of mineral. Our souls, though, that’s different. It’s hurt, and it’s angry at him. That’s why it’s hot. It’s… depressed.”

I snort again, pushing down the urge to roll my eyes. “I don’t have time to fucking play therapist with this little prick and his fucked up Possessor.”

“You’re talking to it.” Quinn says, and I look at him. “You’re… you talk to it?”

“Of course.” I nod. “I’ve had my Possessor since before I started kindergarten. Did you have an imaginary friend, Quinn?” he nods. “I never needed one. I had this.” I touch my crystal, and he watches my hand. “Do you understand that you’ve been given this wonderful, precious gift, this massive responsibility, and you’ve squandered it, poisoned it, because you’re a shallow son of a bitch?”

“Yes.” he sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “Yes, I know all of that. I need to fix it.” he looks at me with pleading eyes. “Help me, Dominic. Please.”

I stand up, scowling. I want to tell him to go fuck himself. I want to beat his miserable little face in. My Possessor brushes against my pulse, curling around my neck. “Don’t do it for him.” it whispers. “Don’t help him because you care what happens to him. The Possessor, it needs him to care. It cannot leave him, and this will kill it.” it pauses, then says, “Do it for me, Dominic, and I swear that I will not mention the mating again. You can choose when, where and how, and I will not protest. I will wait years, if you need me to. Just… fix this.”

I groan and rub my forehead with the tips of my fingers. “It can die because it’s host doesn’t care about it.” I say, and it confirms this with a tiny hum. “Well… fuck.” I turn and look at Quinn. “You said there was something wrong with you, too. What is it?”

He looks uncomfortable at this. “I…” he stops, looking away. “I don’t know.” he says finally. “I feel different lately. Since I put it back on. I feel… cold all the time. Unhappy no matter what I’m doing. I can’t sleep. I can’t keep my food down.”

“It’s guilt.” I tell him. “That’s what guilt feels like.” I sit back down, leaning forward to catch his gaze. “If I agree to help you, you have to actually try. You have to start by admitting what you are, Quinn. You need to start appreciating your Possessor, and you can show it that you’re ready to do that by standing up to Alan and Mark. Start wearing your crystal all the time. On the outside of your shirt. Let your Possessor do as it pleases. It can’t stay in there all the time. It needs to breathe, and it needs to touch you. You’re going to have to get used to that.”

He closes his eyes, and sits back, both hands wrapped around the crystal now. “I’ll lose them, you know.” he says quietly. “All my friends.”

“You can make new friends.” I tell him off handedly.

He glares at me. “Yes, because you have so many. People have been so accepting of you and your Possessor.”

I shrug. “Anyone who can’t see past that isn’t worth it anyway.” I tell him. “Figure that out, Quinn. Until then, I could care less.” I stand up, and after a moment he does as well. “I need to get to school.” I tell him.

He nods. “I can drive you.” he offers.

I think about this for a moment, then agree. I go upstairs, get dressed, brush my teeth and hair, and head downstairs. We’re silent on the drive to school. We get there just after first period ends, and he follows me to my locker. I’m curious as to why, until it occurs to me that my locker is just a couple down from Mark’s.

Jake and Fox are standing by my locker. Jake looks worried, Foxy merely annoyed. Jake spies me and bursts into a huge, stupid grin, and I can’t help but mimic it. He hurries over, stopping just in front of me, as if unsure. I lean down, catching the back of his neck with one hand, and kiss him.

“You had me worried.” he says after pulling away. “You weren’t here this morning and I thought-”

“What the fuck do you want?” Foxy barks from beside him, glaring over my shoulder. I glance at Quinn, who is looking a little like a cornered animal. “Get fucked, you little-”

“Fox.” I say his name, and he stops. “Don’t. Let him be.”

“Are you nuts?” Fox asked me. “This piece of shit-”

“-is a host.” I say, and Jake’s eyes pop wide at the same time Foxy’s mouth drops open. I glance at Quinn again, who steps closer to me, like I might protect him, and nervously pulls the crystal out of his shirt. “I need you- both of you- to be a little understanding for a while. Quinn came to me for help, so you’re going to have to put that shit aside.”

“He’s- you-” Foxy stammers. After a moment he swears and turns on his heel. Jake says his name but Foxy ignores him, stomping down the hall away from us. I sigh and look at Jake. He shrugs, then turns his attention to Quinn, who’s looking sick.

“I don’t like you.” he says, and Quinn’s eyes meet his. “I think you’re a fucking idiot. But if Dominic wants to… whatever he’s doing with you, then fine. Just watch it, because I’ll fucking kill you if you cause problems.”

This little speech startles me, and I put a hand on Jake’s arm. He shrugs it away, looking put out. “Jake…”

“I’ll talk to you later.” he says. He gives me a quick kiss and then turns and disappears into the crowd. I sigh and look at Quinn. He opens his mouth.

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m knocking your teeth out.” I tell him, and he nods and shuts his mouth. I look down the hall and spot Alan and Mark by Mark’s locker, talking and laughing about something. “Are you ready?”

“No.” he says miserably. “Let’s go.”

We head towards them, and I’m wondering if maybe I’m about to get my ass kicked. I drop back a little, letting Quinn approach his friends. At first they smile and greet him, but after a moment I spot Alan’s eyes shift downward, then narrow and his mouth tighten. I step forward a little to hear him, and he says, “What the hell is around your neck, man? That looks like a-”

“It is.” Quinn says quickly, and the brothers both look like Quinn has just informed them that he has leprosy. “I’ve had it for three years. I’m tired of hiding it. I thought… I thought you should know.”

Mark turns and leaves before either of them can do anything at all. I catch the look on his face, somewhere between murderous and about ready to vomit. Alan, on the other hand, just stands there, looking shell shocked. Quinn shuffles his feet.

“Look, I know I lied, and I’m sorry, but I-”

“Fuck you.” Alan snarls, and shoves Quinn hard enough to send him stumbling. His feet get tangled together and he falls down hard on his ass, letting out a startled yelp. “You Puppet piece of shit.” Alan’s foot goes back, and I see his intent a moment before he swings it in a sharp kick. It connects with Quinn’s solar plexus, sending him sprawling back. “I can’t fucking believe I-”

I launch myself forward, swinging with my left fist, and catch Alan just below the eye. He shouts, jerking away from me, his hand coming up to cup the wounded area of his face. “Get up.” I bark at Quinn, who is simply laying there on the floor, sniffling. “Get the fuck up, Quinn, now!”

Thankfully, as per usual in high school fights, two teachers seem to materialize out of nowhere. One grabs Alan just as he comes at me, and I have to step aside or get bowled over by their combined weight. The other teacher grabs Quinn under the armpits and hauls him to his feet.

“Office, now.” the teacher holding Quinn shouts, and I see it’s my math teacher, Mr. Crane. “All of you. Let’s go.”

I sigh inwardly. “I knew this was a bad idea.” I mutter, and my Possessor strokes the side of my neck to calm me. I shoot Alan a dirty look, then turn my attention to Quinn. “You’d better fucking appreciate me.” I tell him, and he gives me a miserable, but grateful look. Then I turn and stalk towards the office, with the two teachers, each one holding a student, in tow.