Beyond the Gateway (Cranksepticeye)

Seven

"Don't go in there!" Tim screeched at Jack as he shuffled Griffith in the direction of the bathroom.
Hand on the doorknob, Jack turned to peer blearily at his roommate standing in the far corner of the living spin-off as far away from the bathroom as one could get in their apartment.
"Step away from the door, Jack!" Tim was just this side of wild-eyed.
Jack did as he was told, trying as he did so to kick-start his brain into gear.
Tim must have gotten in really late- or really early -and Jack hadn't heard him, having fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep on the couch. The remnants of tumbled dreams swam through his brain, weird music that he couldn't quite remember and dancing lights, the pale perfect face of a woman with golden eyes and hair spread out behind her like seaweed floating in a watery current. And something else. Something about a  . . .
"Horse! There's a horse in the bathtub!"
Oh, right. A horse.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut. It hadn't been a bad dream after all. "Uh . . . Tim-"
" in the bathtub!" Tim pointed sharply with one finger, his features drawn right with anxiety.
"About that . . ." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. " I was going to tell you. I guess I fell asleep . . . . " He stated wearily at his roommate who, in turn, glared at the bathroom door.
"Tim, believe me, if I'd know he was going to follow me home from the park, I never would have rescued him. I mean- no, I probably would have, but I mean-"
"Wait a minute." Tim's head swung toward him. " you mean to tell me this is your fault?"
"I guess so. I didn't mean for it to happen, but . . ." Jack stopped, confused. "Who else's fault could it have possibly been?"
" never mind. Go on. " Tim gestured Jack to continue, his eyes still on the bathroom door.
Jack sank down onto the couch and told Tim the whole story.
By the time he finished, Tim seemed to have calmed down- slightly. "Can you at least get it out of the bathtub?"
"That's the thing- He won't move. I tried last night. Maybe . . . " Jack hesitated at the suggestion, then said "maybe we should call the police."
"No! What, are you crazy? If hour landlord finds out about this, we are both out on the street!"
"I know, I know . . . that's what I thought."
Uncharacteristically, Tim tore at the corner of one of his fingernails with his teeth. He was a "parts" model and got paid huge amounts of money to have his hands and feet and legs photographed for advertisements in glossy magazines. Chewing on a fingernail, therefore, was-for Tim-a sign of major stress. "What the hell are we- no, wait. What the hell are you going to do with it?"
"I don't know!" Jack groaned. He got up stiffly and limped to his bedroom to find something to wear. He had no idea what time it was, but judging from the light streaming through the window, it was a lot later tan is should have been. Pulling on jeans and a hoodie, he continued, "Look, I called the city's Animal Control, but they wouldn't believe me." Jack went to the bathroom door and opened it. The horse stood there, fetlock-deep in scented water, chewing placidly on the corner of a bath towel. "I think the lady who took my call thought I might be smoking something."
"If you are"- Tim glowered -"considering the circumstances, you'd better share." He moved to peer nervously over Jack's shoulder. Why does it have beads in its hair?"
"What?" Jack hadn't noticed that. "Where?"
"There." Tim pointed. "And there. Shiny little blue gems- they're knotted all through its hair. Its mane."
Jack edged farther into the tiny room to get a better look. The light of the bathroom bulbs reflected the glitter of dozens of onyx gems.
"I have no idea." Jack was mystified. "They're tied all through its tail, too. Hey- Maybe it's a circus horse! That might explain how it got up the fire escape." Jack reached out a tentative hand to pat the horse's gleaming black flank, and he whickered with pleasure. "You know, if we both push, we might be able to move him into the living room at least." 
Tim raised an eyebrow in silent censure at that idea. 
The alarm on Jack's cell phone chirped, and he went down and picked it up off the counter, glancing down at the time display. He wasn't called for rehearsal until the afternoon that day, so he should be all right . . . except his phone said 12:35 p.m. "Oh no!" Jack couldn't believe how long he'd slept. "I'm gonna be late for rehearsal- I gotta run!"
"Jack . . . " Tim's voice took on a threatening tone as Jack edged toward the door.
"Listen, Tim. There's a bag of rolled oats with your baking stuff in the back of the cupboard-"
"McLoughlin . . . "
Jack winced. Tim only called him by his last name when he was genuinely pissed. "Could you maybe feed him some? Maybe you could entice him out of the tub!"
"You are a craptastic roommate."
"I'll be back as soon as rehearsal is over."
"Craptastic."
"I'll owe you forever, Tim, I promise!"
"Do not say that. I didn't hear that. La-la-la . . . " Tim stuck his fingers in his ears and was still la-la-laing as Jack crept out the front door and took off down the hall as fast as his sneakered feet would carry him.
The last thing he heard as he reached the relative safety of the stairwell was Tim's outraged cry. "Is that my French bubble bath?!"

By the time Jack got to the theater, he wasn't sure what was making him feel worse: his guilt over leaving Tim in the lurch, or the restless sleep he'd gotten the night before. As the fairy dancers warmed up onstage, he sat in his dressing room with his head in his hands, fighting off a major headache.
"Hey, kiddo."
Jack looked up to see Mindi standing in the doorway with the coat for Titania's costume in her hands. It'd had to be taken in rather drastically, and most of the lacing grommets had been replaced.
"I had Wardrobe do the work on this last night, you should get used to wearing it. See? They added some lace trim to hide the alteration seams. What do you think?"
"Oh Mindi, It's great! Jack ran a finger along the handiwork appreciatively. "It looks brand-new." He glanced up into the older woman's face, feeling suddenly guilty. "I guess this means Barbara's really not coming back, huh?"
"Frankly, kid, I think it's better this way. You're doing a bang-up job- well, at least, you will. You know. I mean it was only your first rehearsal, right?" Mindi shrugged. "And this role needed some new blood, if you ask me. Now let me see how this fits."
Mindi turned Jack to face the mirror and held up the coat for him to slip his arms into.
Once he put it on and buttoned the front, Mindi smiled. "Perfect."
Jack smiled for the first time that day. Getting into costume was always one of the best parts of the whole process for him. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and could almost see a fairy king lurking in there somewhere. Light glinted off the rhinestone detailing along the top hem and the embroidered front lapels of the coat.
Hey, Mindi?" Jack touched his necklace, which also sparkled in the mirrored reflection. "Do you think I can keep this on for the show?"
"What is that?" Mindi peered through the half-glasses perched on her nose. "Like a four-leaf clover or something?"
"Yeah. The stones are green amber. My uncle gave it to me when I was a baby." Jack rolled his eyes a little, admitting, "It's sort of a good-luck charm."
"Sure, kid," Mindi said. "It's pretty. The green goes with your costume. And as far as I'm concerned, this productions can use all the luck it can beg, borrow, or steal!"
"Thanks, Mindi."
"Don't mention it. Now get your butt out there, you're due onstage for your bower scene in five."
Grabbing his wings from the hook on the door, Jack ran down the hallway, the exhaustion that had weighed him down all morning left behind in the dressing room.