Page 8 of Fear
On the landing lit by a single overhead light, Jake fumbled with the keys—awkward in a way he’d never been with the Eldorado’s keys—before pushing the door open. He took a step back, waiting for Tobias to go first.
Tobias set his jaw and walked in, sliding the bag to his back so that if there were traps before them, they’d be less likely to damage Jake’s belongings. He tried to look everywhere without appearing to look at anything, and he kept his hands spread at his sides, ready to move instantly between Jake and anything—monster, ghost, human, booby trap—that might fly out at him.
When nothing happened and Jake came in behind him to shut and lock the door, it was a little anticlimactic.
Jake gave him one of the funny looks that was becoming stomach-churningly familiar before he switched on the light. “Well, here it is, Toby. Home sweet home. I know it, uh, needs a lot of work, but I hope you like it.”
Tobias blinked in the sudden light. Freak Camp had either had nothing but light or nothing but dark, and the guards had always controlled which one the monsters got at any particular moment. It was strange to see Jake so easily flip a switch and imagine that he, Tobias, might be able to do the same thing. If Jake would let him, at least. If Tobias got up the courage to ask.
He followed Jake out of the narrow entryway into a large room, its walls painted a more gentle shade of the stark white rooms Tobias was used to. In the opposite wall was a closed wooden door; the left wall had two windows without any bars, only covered in thin plastic shutters. On the right, a half wall separated another room, and next to that a passage led somewhere else.
The room before them had a small wooden table with two padded chairs near the half wall, a sofa next to the closed door, and a television across from the sofa, with a short bookshelf against the left wall. The carpets were a worn white-gray, and the only other notable thing was a single poster, bearing the legend metallica across the bottom, tacked up on the left wall.
“So, uh, grand tour.” Jake clapped his hands. Tobias started, then cringed. Jake paused before continuing. Maybe he’d just been collecting his thoughts, or maybe he was waiting for Tobias to apologize, and Tobias couldn’t tell. “This is the living room, and right around the corner is the kitchen.” He walked over to the open doorway that led into a small kitchen, then looked back at Tobias expectantly. Tobias felt his heart rate pick up again—already too slow, fuck, not anticipating at all—and stepped quickly to Jake’s side. Jake glanced at the bag Tobias still clutched to his shoulder. “Just throw that down anywhere, man.”
Tobias didn’t think he meant that literally—Jake’s possessions were in that bag—so he lowered it carefully to the carpet. He must have still done it wrong because Jake looked slightly unsettled in a way Tobias had never imagined Jake could be. Tobias had just begun to brace himself for the consequences when Jake started talking again, ignoring Tobias’s lapse without giving any correction again.
“So, yeah, kitchen—kinda cramped, I know, but it’s got a working dishwasher, stove, and fridge, which is more than a lot of places got, I can tell you that. This way—” Jake turned down the hall, and Tobias moved after him, step by step. “Bathroom here, laundry room right after—and that’s pretty sweet, I gotta say, not having to worry about the weirdos in laundromats taking off with your boxers—this is my bedroom.” Jake reached toward the partially open door at the end of the hall and rapped on it with his knuckles. “Back this way—”
He pushed past Tobias toward the living room, suddenly enough that Tobias jumped to get his back against a wall. Then he remembered that he didn’t fucking deserve to dodge Jake (though maybe it had been a good idea to get out of his way), took another shaky breath, and followed Jake back to the living room, where Jake was standing next to the previously closed door, now open.
“This is your room, Tobias.”
Tobias stopped at the doorway beside Jake. Up until now, he’d understood well enough—at least, he could have repeated everything Jake said if asked, and he hoped memorizing the name for each room would be enough for now, that he could later figure out the purpose and rules of each—but now he couldn’t suppress the cold terror of complete incomprehension. This was clearly important to Jake, and Tobias didn’t have a clue what Jake meant. His room? Would he stay there when Jake didn’t want to see him? Was he going to be fucked there (when when when)? Was he in charge of keeping it clean? Please don’t do this to me, please just tell me, Jake.
And this was clearly not the reaction Jake had been expecting. Tobias’s idiocy was fucking everything up again. Jake was watching him, and though Tobias couldn’t bring himself to look Jake in the face, he could still feel his—he didn’t know what to call it, but he knew it wasn’t good, that Jake wasn’t happy with him. The terror slid into his throat, became unbearable, and Tobias was just about to crumple to his knees and beg Jake to be patient with his stupidity, please give him the mercy he didn’t deserve, just a little and Tobias would swear he’ll pay him back tenfold—when Jake spoke. Words alone could have made Tobias okay, but the note of desperation in Jake’s voice actually made him listen, helped him break out of his rote response.
“We could switch if you want the other one with the big bathroom—I grabbed it just because, but it won’t be a big deal to switch. Whatever you want, Tobias. I know this one doesn’t look great yet, but I figured we could go out and you could pick out what you want to put in it, instead of whatever shit I got, ’cause I don’t know—yeah, so, it’s just, up to you, man.”
Head tucked down, Tobias listened. He still didn’t understand, but Jake sounded—not angry at all. It was almost like he was worried, and that didn’t ease Tobias’s fears, but it broke the terror into manageable pieces, small enough that he could speak, look, smile, and pretend that he understood what was happening and it was okay with him. That seemed to be what Jake needed right now, and anything Jake needed Tobias was there to provide.
“This is fine, Jake.” He sneaked a peek into the room, at the huge, neatly made bed and wooden set of drawers that was almost like the filing cabinets in the Freak Camp library. It couldn’t possibly be for him, not for a monster to use the way a real would, but whatever Jake was worried about, he shouldn’t be. “This is great,” Tobias said, more firmly.
When Jake let out a sigh, Tobias glanced at him and saw unmistakable relief on Jake’s face. “Well . . . awesome. That’s awesome. And we’ll go out and get more stuff sometime so you can make it however you like.” Jake ran a hand through his hair and blew out his breath again. “It’s . . . good to have you here, Tobias. I’m really glad.”
Before Tobias could soak in the joy of those words and how much Jake clearly meant them, Jake moved forward, almost like he was going to pull him close again, and Tobias had to fight down twin surges of excitement and terror. Last night had started this way too.
Maybe he did something wrong this time too, even though he didn’t move at all; maybe he looked less than ready, because Jake caught himself and backed up against the doorframe.
“How ’bout I make dinner? I mean, I’m not that great. Got better since me and Dad . . . yeah, well, let’s just say that credit card scams aren’t as fun when you know the Dixons are looking over your shoulder.”
Tobias nodded and smiled with very little idea of what Jake was talking about. But that was okay, because he was following Jake to the half wall beyond, which led into the narrow kitchen. Tobias saw metal doors and wooden cupboards but couldn’t really get a good look before Jake motioned to the table through the open partition.
“Why don’t you take a seat while I forage? I’m not sure where I put the pizza pan, and this kitchen’s not really big enough for both of us not to run into each other.”
It was almost a physical relief to be told what to do. Tobias hadn’t been active that day, just riding in the car and soaking in Jake’s presence, but he was bone-deep tired, like he’d been cold too long with not enough food. But Jake’s car had been warm, and Jake had given him plenty of food, so probably it was the constant struggle to be something more than a crawling, whimpering monster for Jake, and the inescapable knowledge that he was failing.
So Tobias sat, his heart rate slowing slightly. He was used to tables. Tables featured in interrogation rooms, the least painful Director sessions, and those precious meetings with Jake. He felt safe and grounded.
And then Jake tossed two plastic plates over the counter, the too-loud sound of them clattering on the table filling the mostly empty apartment, and Tobias was no longer safe, no longer calm. A monster might eat huddled at a table with other monsters, might use a plate with them, but he did not belong or deserve to sit with real people.
Last night in the restaurant and this morning in the hotel, he had sat to eat where Jake had told him to, because it had been important to demonstrate to all the other reals how obedient Jake’s monster was. But now, there was no one else to observe. No one except Jake, who knew exactly what Tobias was and how wrong it was for Tobias to pretend they could eat together.
If Jake had been the Director, Tobias would have known what to do. He would’ve left the table, maybe thrown himself down before the guard could come and move him. But Jake had told him—asked, did that mean the same thing?—to sit, so Tobias sat and fought to keep his breathing steady, fought not to shake, desperately reminding himself that Jake would tell him what to do. Jake would not bring him back to Freak Camp just because he stayed at a table too long. He was almost sure of that, though he knew it was never safe to assume anything with his malfunctioning freak-brain.
But the longer Jake didn’t look at him and just kept moving in the kitchen—was he really unconcerned? Was this some kind of test?—the less Tobias could hold himself still in the chair, mimicking calm.
Then suddenly Jake was there, crouching by him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
