Unreal Reality 

by Bridgid and M

All that I see, seems so unreal to me,
Is it the truth or is it only fantasy,
Is it a dream or is it unreal reality?  
(Raymond Douglas Davies)


A creak on the stairs, a gust of rain laden wind, noises off! John
Nash's hands clapped over his ears.

His heart pounded sledgehammer like in his chest. It beat so hard
he could hear it in his head and feel it in the tips of his fingers. Had he
brought this upon himself? Were those subliminal messages flashing before
him on CNN a precursor to the second coming of  Parcher?


With his knees drawn up, he pressed a pillow against his shins, holding it
in place with tight wrapped arms. Rocking, mumbling.  Cold icy fingers plucked
away at his ninety eight point  six.

What was he doing at this place? Fucking  Parcher had never shown up
at the Morgan family Estate before but he was there now. The bastard stood in the
kitchen door watching Bridgid carve the roast and he had that
God awful smug shit eating grin on his face.  John knew what it meant. He was after
the woman and the only way John could protect his loved ones was to go
back to work for them, for Parcher and his covert cronies. God how he hated this
gnawing feeling of doom and gloom. Why? Why now? Why here? Everything was
going so right to this point.  What happened to bring him back?

A wrenching pain bit into his sternum. The kind of pain one would
get if a glass of tepid water was guzzled. All of the swallowing in the
world wouldn't ease it.

The room closed in and it became tough for him to breath. Shadows
shot across to his left and he turned his head sharply.  "Who's..."
He gagged, choking from the lack of breath. The sound of something rapping on
the wall frightened him sending a surge of adrenaline thorough his veins so
fast that his body demanded oxygen. Enough to widen his eyes and sharpen his
senses, but the anxiety robbed it all in contrast. Sweat poured from his brow
and in seconds his mouth was dry. If he couldn't breathe before he was
suffocating now.

Rocking and gasping he began to form and utter a few 
words. "Please...please  ...leave. Please, please, please." Repeating it over and over again
till it ran together in an endless loop with no beginning or end. Fear and
paranoia sent him into a trance as he chanted the
mantra.  "Please-please-please."

"Get a hold of yourself asshole!"

"Pl...plee...Parcher!" John accused the man of existing  as he
instinctively threw the pillow toward what he saw. "Go away.  Leave me alone.
Leave us alone."

"You know I can't do that John. You know what you have  to do. They
know too much about you now and its not safe." Taking his hat off his cold
blue eyes drilled into the frightened professor. "Get on with it John. The
safety of your nation depends on it. We can't let that happen. A few lives is
all... And that woman..." He rolled his Rosemary's baby blues and swatted his
leg with his hat.

"Which woman?"

"Her, the one you call Marie."

"You stay away from her you hear me! Stay away from her!" Angry
salt water glazed his eyes but their deep set held back any falling tear.

"The one who claims to be a healer. She can't heal you John. I'm
the only one who can."

"NO!"

"You know better Professor. It’s your duty to your country. You've
let your guard down and national security is at risk. Fix this!"

"No." He barked back, grabbing at the cell phone  on his nightstand
he knocked it to the floor and scrambled to pick it up.

"Don't do it John. Don't do it.":

Pushing himself back up to sit on the bed, he stumbled  an fumbled.
Nervous fingers tapped the phone as he raised his eyes to the  intruder. The
incessant pulse of a busy line sounded  loud and clear from the earpiece.
They've got his phone locked. They're doing  it. They, they them!

"Put it down John. I'm telling you...

Struggling to compose, he tried again, mumbling to himself in some
psychotic tongue.  It rang, he heard a click and before anyone uttered hello
he spewed a near indiscernible plea.  "Marie. He's here. He’s here. Help me..."
Frantic words spoken carried the weight of anger and frustration.  "Please
help me."

The phone buzzed in her pocket and she excused herself from the supper table. No talking on the phone during dinner. House rules. As she began her walk up the hall, she gazed up the stairs, hearing ..John's voice?

 "Hello." The phone was answered as she began to ascend the stairs.

"B it's M, I just had a 'phone call from John, he's not well, can you make sure he doesn't leave the house before I get there, I'm halfway up the drive now.."

Turning quickly, Bridgid ran back to the front door and made sure it was open. "M, he wasn't feeling well earlier. What's going on. I'm on my way up to his room now." Leaping up the steps, she stumbled and righted herself. "What's wrong?"

"Parcher's back." M replied "..and this time it's serious. Look don't go in yet, we'll go together, B I'm outside just hang on." M brought the car to a halt and without removing the keys she walked into the house. She knew her way around and found the stairs to the bedrooms easily. B was sitting on the top stair her cell phone still in her hand, her face was white and she looked at M with wide eyes. "Hey B, he'll be OK, let's go find him but don't be surprised if hardly recognises either of us, I get the feeling this is not going to be easy."
"I understand. This way." She stood, turned and led the way to John's room. She opened his door and walked in with M beside her. "John, sweetheart , is everything okay?"

He shook his head no. "You need to go. Go! He'll hurt you."

"Who? Who'll hurt us. It's okay, there's no one here right now."

"He's here. He's watching us."

M put her hand on Bridgid's arm and walked in front of her. "John, it's M, tell Parcher he has to leave now."

Bridgid knew M was better qualified for this then she was. She drew a breath and stood back.

"No, I've told him. He won't go! He's here to take me with him." Shaking his head like a child refusing a spoon full of cough syrup, He slunk down turning his eyes toward the man who stood in the shadow of the corner of his room. "He's serious this time."

M walked towards John and sat on the bed. Taking care not to touch him she spoke again. "John, can you look at me, don't look at Parcher, look at me

He couldn't look at her. It would call Parcher's attention to her and he just couldn't. Once again he shook his head before pulling his knees up to his chest.

"John, Parcher can't hurt you and he can't hurt me, he isn't real. Look at me John, look at me and then tell him to go."

His eye broke from that man for a moment but he didn't look at M. Taking a long blink, he looked down at M's legs but not her face. "I told him to go. He refused."

A whisper came from the doorway. "Doug, should I call Doug?" She could handle just about any medical problem but a psychotic episode of this magnitude was well beyond her. Besides that, John was family.

M did not turn but she did reply. "No, there's no need for Doug, John can do this himself. John." She kept her voice gentle but determined. "John, look at me,"

A tear fell onto his arm, the droplet rolling around to his wrist. He felt that. The feeling was coming back to his hands. His eyes rose slowly, following every contour of the woman who sat near. Where he could reach in sight he couldn't in body. In his mind he screamed out to take her hand but that mind was separate from the one controlling his actions.

A thump at the bottom of the stairs had Bridgid turn to look down. She held a hand up to stop Bud from coming any further. "No! stay." Tearing herself from the conflict in the room she joined the cop. "It's okay. M is here. John's having an ..episode. Bud, please go back and keep everyone at the table for a while. Don't tell them what's happening."

His curiosity was peaked but the tone in her voice told him that he needed to do what she said.

"You okay honey?"

"Yes, yes. please."

Nodding, he tried to hide his worried expression as he returned to the dining room.
John's fingers twitched, longing to touch.

M was watching him closely and didn't miss the tear that fell from his eye, it marked some progress to her, his imprisoned mind was trying to break free. Very slowly she moved her hand towards him still not touching but needing him to know she was there. "John, can you see my hand? My hand is real, can you take it Professor, can you take it and look at me?"

Inching toward her his fingers pinched and rolled the material at the leg of her jeans. He could feel it. It was real! His hand slid up further until he could squeeze her leg. Turning his eyes, he captured her hand in his instantaneously freeing him from the cold God damned stare of Parcher's eyes. In fact he glanced quickly back at the man and his hat was now in place on his head and pulled down to hide those weapons..

Bridgid gasped and covered her mouth as she began to cry. She knew it. She knew John would respond better to M.

M kept completely still as he took her hand, it was important that she let him know she was there, she was real. Letting a few moments pass she brought his hand gently to her chest. "Can you feel my heart John? This is real, I'm real, now, tell Parcher to leave, he has no place here, you're with friends now."

She was aware of Bridgid in the background but ignored her friend keeping her attention focused on Nash.
The relief that Bridgid felt was overwhelming. M was there for John when he came to the Estate from the very beginning. Lowering her head, she knew she wasn't needed at the moment and that was fine with her. John was a special man and he needed more then B alone could give him. Bless M.

John didn't notice B there. He didn't see her leave. He was now looking directly into M's eyes.

"John, tell him to leave." She repeated. Her tone was still gentle and even but still determined. She knew that in order to get John back, he would need to be the one to rid them of Parcher, he needed to be in control now and she would stay with him exactly as they were until he felt able to do that. If it took the rest of the night and into the next day it didn't matter, what mattered was that he could recognise the waking from the dreaming, he'd done it before and there was no doubt in her mind that he could and would do it again.

"Take me away from him. I can't make him leave. Don't you understand that I just. can't." Withdrawing the hand that she held clutched to her chest, he wrapped his arms around himself. The confusion of not being able to talk to Parcher in front of M set in solid. "I don't understand anything."

Very slowly and calmly she turned and lifted her legs onto the bed crossing them as she did. She made no move to retake his hand. Instead she put her hands either side of her thighs and spoke again. "John, look at me."

The heat from her hands was so intense compared to the chill of his body that he couldn't help but look up at her. Worry furrowed his face aging him well beyond his years. What drained from the corners of his eyes took the path of least resistance, following the worry lines and pooling in spots. Still looking into M's eyes he uttered the words. "Parcher. Go. I want you to go."

His words were music to her ears, she wanted to punch the air but, she didn't. Instead she calmly held out her hand and kept her eyes on his. "Tell him again John, let's be sure he heard you."

Finger tips touched. "Parcher. Not today. Not today. I've got things to do." Johns eyes said what the rest of his face couldn't. The sun rose slowly on the dark lost look he'd had. Dare he gaze to that God forsaken corner? No, there was nothing there now. "We're free M. For the time being we're free."

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