Lineage

“What?” Lance asked.


Andy didn’t move. His eyes focused on a blank wall over Lance’s shoulder. “There’s so many,” Andy whispered. His eyes closed and he seemed to drop into a deep sleep. Lance stared at him for several minutes, waiting for something more, but only the quiet of the house greeted his patience.

After assuring himself that his friend wasn’t going to die, Lance drained the water and toweled Andy off where he lay. After carrying him to the spare room, Lance deposited him into the bed. He drew back into the hallway while studying the sleeping form. The only sounds from the room were the familiar snores he had heard just before drifting into sleep earlier. As he walked into the small bathroom and turned on the shower, Lance marveled at how much had transpired since they had gone to bed a few hours ago.

The hot water rivaled any other sensation he had ever known, as it loosened his cemented muscles and the tendons, tight as fiddle strings, that attached them. He sighed as the adrenaline rushed away and left an immense expanse of exhaustion that threatened to slump him to the floor in a heap. His tired mind tried to revisit the events, but he shoved them away, unable to deal with anything further.

After drying off and falling into his welcoming bed, Lance had a few moments of contemplation before sleep dragged him beneath its veil. He spent them searching for a true explanation about what had happened and wondering what there were so many of.



“I remember going to bed and waking up for a minute in the tub, that’s it.” Andy sat spinning his half-empty coffee cup on the table, the dark liquid within threatening to slosh over each time his hands set it in motion.

Lance sat across from him, as the diner bustled with noise around them on a busy Saturday morning. A waitress stopped, breathless, at the edge of their table.

“You two ready?”

Both men put in their orders, and when the menus had disappeared from the table, Andy spoke again.

“Maybe I had too much to drink, decided to go for a swim. It’s the most probable scenario.”

Lance stretched his jaw until it cracked and let it fall back into place. When Andy had woken that morning, sore from shivering but otherwise fine, Lance had questioned him about his memories, or lack thereof, and had come up with nothing. He decided not to fill Andy in on what he had seen beneath the water of the lake since he himself still seriously doubted it. Instead of making breakfast at the house, they elected to eat in town at the diner. The company of other people felt necessary to Lance, as if the normalcy of other lives might influence his own. When they left for the diner, Andy drove himself, without comment, and took his overnight bag with him. Lance didn’t ask, although he felt a twinge of disappointment when he realized he wouldn’t be spending as much time as he had hoped with his oldest friend.

“Maybe,” Lance offered, looking across the diner at the crowded tables, the people speaking of trivial matters, no doubt. They didn’t seem to be losing their minds, seeing things that couldn’t be and resisting the urge to call their psychologists.

“Thank you,” Andy said. Lance looked back at his friend. Andy’s eyes met his and true gratitude shone within them. “I might’ve died if you hadn’t pulled me out of the water, and the world would have lost its youngest and most brilliant agent.” Lance huffed laughter and shook his head in mock disdain. “What, you don’t think I’m an asset to talented individuals like yourself?”

Lance grinned. “I think you’re an asset, all right, minus the et on the end.” Andy flipped Lance his middle finger and Lance saw several of the customers nearby raise their eyebrows.

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