Spilling Guts

Part 119 - French fries with a Milkshake

Balcuwitz and Will took turns going through the whiteboard slides while Louis refocused on the blueprints for the Devil's Neckbrace. He'd read through them once when he did his original report concerning Will and other victims. With new scans of the Neckbrace at hand, he wondered if his report needed an update.

Playing a team game of "spot-the-difference" between past blueprints and current scans of the Neckbrace was not how Louis imagined he'd spend the day after a funeral. So far Will had found one difference, Balcuwitz three, and himself, just by familiarity of the device, four.

Most of the changes were secondary or for esthetics; longer nerve arms, adjusting the spine cord to extend and better fit the person it was attached to, a chrome finish. Nothing that seemed to be a smoking gun, or red flag, or sign saying "I'm the fucking circuit that fucks shit up!"

Louis paced while Balcuwitz tapped a pen on a notepad, and Will tried laying down to look at the pictures from a different angle. Or he could be napping. Will looked like he needed a nap.

"We need fifteen kindergarteners to help us with this," said Louis.

When lunchtime came around and Rachel and Hayman hadn't returned, Louis went on a food run. Double order of curry fries, in hopes of sharing with Will, and a side of chili (extra spicy) for Balcuwitz. The customer reward card was coming in handy. So what if he was eating too much fried food? It was Friday, he could eat whatever he wanted.

Will brought in the rest of the tiramisu from the break room, and an electric kettle so they could make tea or instant coffee. Louis stayed far away from Will's mug of tea; one burn was enough.

Lowering his standards to instant coffee made Louis internally weep. At least he spooned in real sugar. No pink packet imitation sweetener. But that was nothing compared to what Will considered "lunch".

"You are seriously going to eat curry-seasoned fries dipped in tiramisu?"

Will paused with a curry fry halfway to his mouth. "You've never dipped a french fry into a milkshake before have you?"

"I've dipped a stale granola bar into coffee so I could chew it without breaking molars." Louis pulled his half of the curry fries far away from the tiramisu. Balcuwitz had absconded to his office with his chili for the next hour, so Louis and his sense of taste had no backup. "Is this an Iowa thing?"

"It's a people with taste thing. Try it." Will tilted the tiramisu container towards Louis and ate his own fry. "You'll be surprised."

"No. We could all deal with less surprises." Louis wouldn't even know how to write that culinary combination into his food diary.

"You're mixing savory and sweet. It's like chili served with a cinnamon roll. It's not going to kill you."

"You dump chili on a cinnamon roll?" Louis scoffed. "You eat the weirdest things."

"I've eaten you. Try harder." As if to placate Louis and his need for appropriate curry fry dips, Will dipped his next fry into the ketchup.

That... should not sound as-- nope. No, don't think about that. Louis chewed fries dipped in garlic sauce. I'm glad we're talking without snapping at each other or arguing about... things. But how is it the only time we can talk is around food? His hand jerked away before he wiped grease on his black trousers. Napkins, idiot. Use them or change clothes. Still need to change anyway. I feel like a letter packed in a grief envelope.

He'd rather be wearing issued pajamas like Will...

Will sat frozen, face slack, eyes focused on a smear of ketchup on his wrist. Face drained of blood.

Louis could feel dread burrowing under his spine. "Will?"

Will shuddered, unhearing, breath coming out in shallow pants as his body froze up, dipping to the side. Louis caught him as he tipped off his seat.

"Shit, not again." Louis lowered Will's twitching body to the floor and bracketed Will's back against his kneeling thighs to keep his partner on his side. He cupped his right hand between Will's head and the hard floor. Will remained dead-eyed, gasping. Louis hissed under his breath, unable to do anything of substance against whatever Will saw in his nightmare.

Help, he needed help. Louis reached towards his phone on the table, but to reach he'd have to let go of Will. Rachel said to call Cetz if Will needed anything. Maybe if he yelled.

"Cetz!" Yeah, like Cetz could hear him.

The door banged open. Louis swiveled on his knees, fist up.

Cetz strode over, slipping the headset down to his shoulders. "How bad is it?"

Louis slumped in relief. "How did you-?"

Cetz gestured to his headset as he knelt by Will's head. "Rachel linked my headset to Hayman's Beanie thing, 'cause I'm so good at moving bodies. What happened?"

"Night-terror. I caught him on the way down."

"How long as he been like this?"

"Almost a minute. What now?"

Cets grabbed a small pillow from the cot, replacing Louis' hand under Will's head. "We wait until he snaps out of it."