Lit : Alchemy Dream

Hope you like it!

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Part of me was not too surprised when I heard the knock on my window, because part of me knows them both too well. I know that they both get angry sometimes. They both get lit. That's what drew them to each other.

One of them sits on the concrete step to my window, the latch propping it up about 3 inches to let the rolling cigarette smoke escape. He knows my parents would never approve. He was always the thoughtful one. The rain hits the pavement at eye level, some of it running in through the crack to drip on the carpet.

Maybe not that thoughtful.

Now that I think about it, I don't remember when Sean started smoking. It must be something that he picked up in Wasaga, or something he hid from me, which is also a fair guess. I sit on my bed, watching him. His serious face focuses on some indiscriminate flecks of ash. His thick eyebrows are furrowed, his scowl unmoving. I can almost hear his mind working. I can almost hear him trying not to panic. But he knows it got out of hand this time. He knows that they killed a guy tonight.

The other one lays on my couch, nursing what we both think is a broken arm. I used my pillow case to create a sling of sorts. He trembles. He doesn't speak because words just get in his way. There's a gun shot wound in his side, but he won't let me touch it. He won't let me look. He knows he can't leave this room, because there are people out there looking for him and Sean. I find it interesting that he has more scratches than Sean. For once, he has taken that stupid hat off. There must be a gash somewhere on his scalp, I think, because dried trickles of blood dot his forehead. I wish he'd let me...

"Jay, you need to put something on it. I'm serious. It doesn't look good." I get up from my bed and without his permission, climb the stairs and open the door to the hall, trying to be as quiet as possible. I glance back at Sean who looks worried. Does he think I'm going to go call the cops?

"I'll be right back." I creep into the hall.

It unnerves me too that my parents are asleep right up the stairs, my baby brother innocently dozing away as I harbor two murderers in my bedroom. I almost choke as the word comes to mind.

Jay and Sean are murderers.

Although it was in self defense, it's still serious. It's far beyond stealing amps, beyond deafening a boy in one ear.

Sean claims that it's nothing, that he's killed before. He killed Rick. Also in self defense. Sean isn't scared. Sean knows what happened. He decided it was time to go looking for parts to finish Jay's custom job up, but picked the wrong neighborhood to "shop" in. He hit the jackpot.

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They had seen it while cruising around Wasaga when Jay went to visit Sean yesterday. A beautiful custom Civic with compact dubs, a full GS-R engine transplant, AEM intake, a DC header, and a full Magnaflow cat back exhaust. It had a surreal DuPont colour changing Chromalusion job on it that made it easy to find in the small town. The followed it home from the beach one day, and were amazed as they caught site of the garage.

It was a dream come true. Sean said he could almost see Jay's eyes glaze over. There were 3 other cars, one a '96 Civic in progress, the other two Nissan Acuras with just cosmetic mods. The man that stepped out was about 6'4", blonde dreds, orange baseball cap. As soon as he walked into his one story shack, Jay and Sean decided to get a closer look. Hiding in the thick bushes, they crept their way to the garage door. There were parts everywhere. Casings, a new set of BF-Goodrich G-Force T/As, size unknown.

And there they were.

The perfect accessory for Jay's newly put-to-shame red baby.

Brand new 6 ½ " Denji fog lights. Jay almost had an orgasm right there.

"Cameron. You think we can do those?" Sean smiled.

"Don't you?"

"I don't know how to mold them into the bumper. Do you?"

"Yeah, piece of cake." The klepto in him was brimming with excitement. It had been a while. It seemed like a good idea, doing what he and Jay did best together. Now it wasn't just stealing, it was bonding. They were like brothers by now, and this was a perfect re-initiation for them after Sean's long leave of Toronto. A shared smile sealed it.

After grabbing a pizza buffet last night, they pulled on black sweatshirts and retraced their steps to the Civic heaven. The unlit dirt road flew by them. They almost hit a jack rabbit (Jay's account.). Sean drove, fumbling with the stereo the whole way. About 10:30, they parked about half a mile away from the house, staying close to the vegetation that lined the dirt path.

"Must not be too concerned about his work..." said Sean, noticing that the garage was open, a work light dangling from the ceiling over the engine.

"Aw, and they left the light on for us!" Jay said. The two boys stealthily moved into the garage and grabbed the box with the fog lights. Jay brought it under the work lamp and examined the box.

"Look at this, Sean. Clear JF type. Retail-$100. This guy's got good taste."

"Hey, man, let's get outta here. I heard something." Just then, Jay stepped back to make tracks, and stepped on a lone bulb. The sound of the shattering glass seemed to echo throughout Wasaga as both of their hearts began pounding. They looked at each other and began to run.

Just then, the door opened. It was all a blur from there. Gunshots rang out. Sean said the guy kept yelling "Fucking Losers, get out of here!" They threw the lights into the bushes and made a run for it. Just then, as they were close to Jay's car, they heard glass shatter. Guy had shattered the windshield. Jay watched in horror, and turned to face the man.

"You'd better back the fuck off of us, man." Jay shouted, running towards the guy now.

"Jay! Stop! Come on!" Sean shouted. Jay walked up to the guy and kicked him. Sean watched in horror as the man put the gun up to Jay's temple.

"Jay..J..JAY! That's a Glock .45! You won't LIVE, man!" He panicked and ran to his friend's side. Jay breathed heavily, considering what his next move would be. He didn't have to.

Before he knew it, the man was falling backwards. The pistol went off and shot through his side, grazing the flesh, but the bullet not implanting itself in the skin, thankfully. Jay lurched forwards, his large blue eyes wide in fear. He let out a little cry and fell to the dirt, blood beginning to soak his black hoodie. Before he passed out, he saw Sean stare at him, wide-eyed, dropping a knife to the ground. He turned back to the man, who was neither moving nor breathing.

Then it was all black.

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I stand at the kitchen counter, spreading the mayonnaise on the identical sandwiches for the fugitives in my bedroom. Wheat bread, ham, alfalfa sprouts, mayo and chipoltle dressing. I grab two root beers from the fridge and shut it gently with my hip. I stop by the bathroom and gather up some bactine, gauze pads, bandaging materials and towels. With this huge load, I walk back to the bedroom. Descending the stairs, I see that Sean has moved to the couch. He left the window open. His legs stretch out, and his eyes are closed. I place the sandwich and root beer on the clothing trunk I've been using as a table. He looks okay, overall. No wounds. He looks peaceful, so I don't wake him. He'll have enough to deal with when light breaks. Walking over to my closet, I grab a sleeping bag and unzip it to full size. I place it over him, noticing how small he looks under it. I look at the clock.

3:56 a.m. They've been here for 2 hours.

My eyes scan the room for Jay.

Jay has morphed into a lump in my bed. He lays on top of my pink bed spread having removed his hoodie and putting it under his wounded side to soak up the blood. Wearing a tight white tee, I can see the outline of weak biceps. I always knew he wasn't as strong as his facade would suggest. I put down the sandwich and stalk to the side of the bed, hoping he's asleep. I pull up the side of the shirt where there's a big blood soaked tear and wondered if this was a good idea. A chill shoots up my spine as my tired eyes examine the gash, the dried blood, and the fresh that drips out when I apply pressure. Jay wakes up and tries to move away, but I press my palm down flat on his warm stomach to pacify him.

"It's okay, I've got to put something on it or it'll just keep bleeding." I try to be quiet and not wake Sean.

"It's fine, I'll go see about it this afternoon. It's fine."

"Look, please?" He stares at me, annoyed, and removes his shirt, wincing. My heart skips a beat.

"Just be still."

"Can I have that root beer while you do this?" he asks, and suddenly I feel like a mom. I smile and hand him the can. He pops it quietly and lays back, trying to drink it while horizontal without being messy. I prop a towel under his warm body and trace the wound with my ring finger. He shudders, but tries not to show it. I cover a cotton ball with bactine and run it over the wound. He whines loudly and I slap him on the head.
"Quiet! Don't be a baby." he lays back down, reprimanded, and I continue cleaning the wound, discovering that it isn't too deep, and feeling relieved. I cover it with a gauze pad and press lightly.

"Put some pressure on it every few minutes, it'll stop the bleeding." I get up and shut the window. He grunts. Sean is still sleeping.

I walk back to the bed, where Jay is scarfing the sandwich, and grab the soiled hoodie and tshirt, tossing them in the trash. I walk back to my bed and crawl under the covers, content that things are ok for now. I look at Jay next to me, who is now topless and shivering.

"Climb in." I say, holding the blankets up. I know he'll just bleed all over the place, but I'll forgive him for now. He looks at me, expressionless and crawls under the warm pink blanket. The feeling of shared body heat reaches us both, I think, and I turn the bedside lamp off, letting darkness wash the room. Only the sound of Sean's light breathing and monsoon strength rain permeates this darkness. The green glow-in-the dark stars and moons come into sight on the ceiling. Jay smiles at this. I inch closer and hope he doesn't notice.

"Are you scared, Jay?" I say softly.

"No." I hear his voice crack.

"I'm scared too."

"It wasn't our fault. It'll be fine."

"Maybe you're right." I reach for his hand, and my heart skips when I realize I'm holding it. It's warm and rough. I'm pretty sure this isn't one dimensional. He turns to look at me in the dark, and scoots closer, resting his face on my shoulder and I think I'll die. I can feel his warm breath on my bare skin and I close my eyes, waiting for him to fall asleep. I know I should feel less at ease about everything than I am. They still killed someone. I feel Jay's breathing slow up, become gentle.

I'm afraid, but I'll be here for him.

I'm lit for him.

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Thanks for reading! I swear, you'd think I was a guy for all my knowledge of custom jobs. Just a little one shot, so let me know what you think! XOXO