Don't Wake Me Up | Chapter 4

            At noon, Bradley Carlisle went downstairs to Darcy’s office. He felt clammy and nervous, and found himself panicking at the thought that something bad might have happened and that Darcy wouldn’t be there. Reluctantly, he knocked on the door. Immediate relief washed over him when the door was pulled open by the doctor-turned-nurse, who stepped aside to let him in. Sitting on the stool deeper into the room was Ansel, who was mumbling something about some sort of radio.

            “What kind of car doesn’t have a radio?” He grumbled to himself.

            Bradley ignored him and looked up at Darcy, who had just closed the door. “How is he?” The computer teacher asked.

            Darcy smiled. He looked worn out. “He’s fine.” The doctor replied. “I’m so glad to have him back. Thank you.”

            “Don’t thank me just yet,” Bradley muttered as he glanced again at Darcy’s friend. As he sat, Ansel bobbed his leg and fiddled with the sleeves of his purple hoodie, twisting and untwisting the fabric around his fingers indiscreetly. “Has anything… out of the ordinary been happening?”

            Darcy shook his head, but then said, “He said he heard someone saying something in the car. I didn’t hear it.”

            “Did he say anything about the voice or what it said?”

            “No. I don’t think he was paying any attention to it, but he asked for me to turn the radio off.”

            “Oh?”

            “My car doesn’t have a radio.”

            “Oh.”

            “Darc,” Ansel spoke up, “you gonna introduce me to this guy, or are you two just gonna keep whispering by the door?”

            “Sorry.” Darcy stepped closer, and Bradley followed. “Ansel, this is Bradley Carlisle. He’s…”

            “I’m the computer teacher here.” Bradley extended his hand for a handshake, which Ansel accepted rather hesitantly.

            “Nice to meet you, I guess. Do you know who I am?”

            “Vaguely,” Bradley admit.

            “Have we met before?”

            “Not really.”

            Ansel shook his head. “Huh. I feel like we’ve met.”

            Bradley glanced at Darcy, who stepped further forward.

            “He stopped by every so often to help me take care of you over the past two years.” The doctor covered for him.

            “Uh, yeah.”

            “Have you seen me naked?” Ansel jokingly asked.

            “Yes, actually.”

            Ansel blushed and frowned. “Not even Darcy’s seen my dick.”

            “Well, I mean, I have.” Darcy quietly revealed.

            The former insomniac’s face reddened a bit more.

            “I wasn’t looking! I just kind of… saw it.”

            “Just… stop talking.”

            “Okay.” The nurse turned to Bradley. “Can I talk to you?”

            “Sure.” The teacher responded.

            “Outside?”

            “Let’s go.”

            Darcy looked back at Ansel. “Stay here.” After Ansel shrugged, he and Bradley left the room.

            Now alone, the former insomniac looked around the room. He knew Darcy to be kind of a clean freak, so he expected the room to be nice and orderly, but surprisingly, things looked somewhat disarranged, like he didn’t care. He couldn’t picture his friend ignoring a mess, so he was left a little bit concerned. “Man… How much did my coma or whatever affect him?”

            “Quite a lot.”

            He whipped his head around at the sound of a voice answering his rhetorical question, but saw no one. “Who’s there?”

            No answer.

            Ansel felt a chill run up his spine. The voice had sounded like him, but at the same time, hadn’t. It was hard to describe, and he was made nervous by the fact that it was apparently in his head. So, he stood up. There had to be someone in there. “Come on out.” He insisted. “If I find you before you show yourself, I’m gonna beat your a*s.”

            Still, nothing. Undeterred, he crouched to look under the bed in the room, and when he found nothing there, he walked across the room to a little nook; no one was there either. He jumped when there was a knock on the door, and he stood in place in stunned silence. After a few quiet seconds, there was another knock, and then a woman’s voice called into the room.

            “Nurse Adair?” The stranger with a pretty voice asked. “Are you in there? I’ve got a sick student here.”

            Though he wasn’t entirely sure if he should, Ansel nervously cleared his throat and replied, “Bring him in.”

            The door opened, and as he heard two sets of footsteps�"one wearing heels, which was a pleasant sound to his ears�"enter the room, he turned, only to immediately freeze.

            Standing before him, helping a young man into the room, was the most beautiful woman Ansel had ever seen. His eyes widened to take in more of her delicate features, and he forgot how to breathe for a moment. Her hair was waist-length, long and black, shining like silk, and her eyebrows were arched in a way that made his heart race. She wasn’t skinny, but she wasn’t overweight. She was wearing a red V-neck shirt with half-sleeves, and tight black pants that showed off her gorgeous thighs. Ansel stared at her as she helped the ill student sit down on the bed, and when she finally looked up at him, meeting his eyes, he couldn’t help but immediately look down at his own shoes.

            “So you’re Nurse Adair, huh?” She asked him. “Funny, I expected someone different.”

            “How so?” Ansel played along, curious as to her thoughts, though he didn’t look back up at her.

            “I didn’t expect my co-workers to be right about you being handsome.” She flirted with a casual giggle.

            Ansel flushed and laughed. “Well, uh… I have a confession.”

            She gave him an intrigued look when he finally looked up at her.

            “I’m not Dr. Adair.” He admit nervously. “He just stepped out less than a minute ago.”

            “Oh.” The woman looked him over. “Well, you don’t look young enough to be a student.”

            “I’m a friend. Name’s Ansel, Ansel Hunnisett.”

            “What an odd name.” She teased with a smile, and somehow that only made Ansel fall for her more.

            “Heh, yeah…”

            She stepped closer, extending her hand for a handshake. “I’m Molly Barton. I teach mathematics here. Nice to meet you, Ansel.”

            With his heart in his stomach, Ansel shook Molly’s hand. “Nice to meet you, too, Molly…”

---

 

            “What is it?” Bradley asked Darcy once they were standing outside. It was cold, but the teacher usually took his dark brown coat with him whenever he left his room, so he was fine.

            “Why can’t I tell Ansel that he was dead?” The doctor questioned. “I feel bad lying to him. I don’t know how much longer I can keep him convinced that he was only half-conscious for two years.”

            Bradley sighed. “I think it’s better if you don’t know. Just trust me.”

            “I deserve to know!”

            “Darcy, I gave you Ansel back.”

            Darcy chewed on his own lip. “Okay, I don’t deserve it. But I need to know. Please. What will happen if I just tell him the truth?”

            “Something terrible.”

            “Like what?”

            The computer teacher, defeated, huffed before finally giving in. “I summoned a demon with him. The fact that his spirit is strong enough to hold itself together is in part due to the fact that he thinks he’s still alive. If he knew he was dead, the demon would surely take over. He would lose himself. Ansel would be pushed to the sidelines to watch his new body do the demon’s bidding.” He paused for a second, examine Darcy’s horrified expression. “And that’s not just an educated guess. I know. From experience.”

            “What,” the nurse stammered quietly, “you mean you’ve done this before?”

            “Yes.” Bradley lowered his head in shame. “My fiancée had a son. She was a teenaged mother with some jock. Of course, he didn’t stay.”

            Darcy paid attention, not just out of respect, but due to a genuine interest.

            “The kid died when he was six, before I knew her. I met her the following year. She was so lost without him, so… I figured that maybe I could help. I tried to resurrect her son.” His face paled. “We made the mistake of telling him everything after a few days.”

            “Then what happened?” Darcy asked, albeit hesitantly.

            “She and I were off-limits, but… people we loved… horrible things happened to them. In the end, I had to undo the ritual.”

            “Meaning…?”

            “I had to exorcise her son. I… I had to send him to Hell.”

            “Oh my…”

            “I don’t know why she stayed with me. I mean, I damned her son to the fiery pits below. I would’ve left me if I was in her position, but… I guess she saw that I had good intentions, because for some reason, she stayed…” He shook his head, changing the subject. “But that was only with minor help from the underworld. Her son still had a body. Ansel’s body was made by a demon. He doesn’t know it, but his spirit is going to forever be fighting for control. He’s got a good wall of defense, believing that he’s completely normal, but if he finds out he died, I can only imagine the horrors that will ensue…”

            “If you’re so worried about this… If this is so risky,” the former doctor inquired, “then why did you bring him back?”

            “I need to know if it was possible to keep her son with us. If it was my fault, or if it was destined to happen.” The teacher looked down. “I’m just hoping that you can make it right. I want to prove to myself that I can use this magic for good; to make someone happy.” He looked up at Darcy, meeting his eye, and begged, “Please don’t make the same mistake my fiancée and I did. Ansel might still have a chance.”

            Darcy nodded slowly. If he had to lie to keep Ansel with him, he would. He would do anything to stay with him. More or less done with their conversation, the two of them then walked back inside, heading toward Darcy’s office.

            “Hey, uh,” the doctor quietly began, “I just wanted to thank you again. You didn’t have any reason to help me like you did. I’m forever in your debt.”

            “Again,” the teacher warned in a low, concerned voice, “don’t say that just yet. If things don’t work out, I might have just ruined your life. You don’t look like you’ll be able to handle losing him again.”

            Darcy said nothing, finding the claim to be valid; he’d only just got Ansel back. If he ever had to risk losing him again, it would not be without him likely taking his own life as well. “Do you think it would be possible for us to be friends?” He asked suddenly.

            Bradley looked at him. “What, you and I? I’m not sure.”

            “Well, I’d like to be.” The doctor chuckled solemnly. “Since Ansel, I… I kind of cut what few friends I had left out of my life.”

            The computer teacher shrugged and said, “I guess we could try.”

            “Great.”

            When they finally reached the office, Darcy opened the door, and was surprised to see not only a student lying down on the bed, but a woman talking to Ansel. After a few seconds, the young man noticed Darcy and began to speak.

            “Oh, there’s the man of the hour.” He greeted, causing the woman to turn around and look at him.

            “Who are you?” The nurse asked.

            Bradley stepped further in and recognized her, but didn’t speak, allowing her to introduce herself.

            “I’m Molly Barton. I teach mathematics here.” She told him with a little wave, not remarking on Bradley’s presence. “You must be Nurse Adair?”

            “Yeah.” Darcy answered. Behind Molly, he watched Ansel do a serious of excited, mute gestures, including a heart shape with his hands and what looked to be him mouthing the words “I LIKE HER”.

            The math teacher chuckled anxiously after an awkward silence, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were out, and this student was complaining of stomach cramps, so your friend here let us in.” She explained.

            “That’s fine.” Darcy quickly countered. “I’m not upset or anything.”

            “Oh. It just sorta looked like you were bothered for a second there.”

            “No, it, uh…”

            Noticing that the former doctor was staring past her, she looked over her shoulder at Ansel, who quickly stopped his ecstatic flailing before he was in her line of sight, but did proceed to wave at her with a tiny and adorable smile before she turned her head back to Darcy, at which point he smiled wider at his friend. The nurse had never seen the young man so love-struck, and he wasn’t sure exactly how to react other than with a tiny smile of his own.

            “It’s alright, really.” Darcy finally finished. He went over to the student on the bed, and as he did, Molly turned to Ansel.

            “I’d love to get your number.” She said coyly.

            Ansel was about to speak, but Darcy remembered that Ansel’s number had probably been recycled already, since he had been dead and Darcy hadn’t had the forethought to not close the account.

            “Uh, you know what?” The nurse blurted, cutting his friend off before he could even get a syllable past his lips. “Why don’t you just write your number down for him? His phone’s dead.”

            The woman looked at him quietly for a few seconds, trying to wrap her head around what he was saying, and as she did, Ansel shot him a glare.

            “Uh, sure.” Molly agreed after a beat or two. “Can I have some paper, then?”

            “Absolutely.” Darcy ignored Ansel’s hard stare and quickly searched around through the mess on his desk until he found a pad of paper and a pen. He handed them both to Molly before stepping back to the student’s side.

            Molly wrote down her number and handed the items to Ansel, who nodded at her. “I have students waiting in my classroom.” She told him. “Call me sometime, will you?”

            “For sure.” Ansel stammered, grinning again.

            The math teacher waved at him and headed for the door. As she opened it, she glanced at Bradley. “Hey, Brad.” She greeted.

            “Hey.” Bradley responded meekly.

            The second Molly was out of the room, Ansel approached Darcy, frowning. “Dude,” he complained, “what was that all about? You made yourself look like a bit of an a*s.”

            “I know, but you were going to give her somebody else’s number if I didn’t.” The nurse admit.

            “What do you mean? I think I know my own number.”

            “You were nearly comatose. I… kinda had your account closed.”

            “Darc!”

            “Well, I didn’t see a point in leaving it open if you weren’t around to use the number!”

            Ansel crossed his arms and frowned, but didn’t argue, since he understood Darcy’s point. However, being a stubborn Capricorn, he did not admit that he knew Darcy was in the right; instead, he just kept frowning, looking off at the wall above him.

            “I’m sorry. I’ll get you a new number and pay the bills for a few months for you.”

            Ansel only grunted.

            “Alright?”

            Nothing.

            “Ansel?”

            “Fine.” The response was a quiet mumble that got a laugh from Darcy.

            Bradley found it interesting to watch the chemistry between Darcy and Ansel. If he didn’t know any better, he might have thought they were brothers, but at the same time, there was a strange intimacy that he could sense between them that was more than that of sibling-like closeness. Though he couldn’t necessarily describe it as “sexual tension”, he figured that perhaps the term “romantic tension” might be the closest he could get. However, neither of them seemed gay, and Ansel was noticeably attracted to Molly, so he was left uncertain as to what to dub the connection he saw between them. Realizing that the two men had completely forgotten that he was even in the room, he cleared his throat, which prompted them both to look over at him. “I should get going too,” he told them, though he didn’t have to.

            “Uh, wait,” Darcy got up, pulling his phone from his pocket and walking over to him. “Would it be too much to ask if we could exchange numbers? That way we don’t have to keep arranging meetings in person.”

            “Sure, I guess.” Bradley replied.

            Ansel watched Darcy type in Bradley’s number with his arms still crossed over his chest, but wasn’t really paying attention. He was too busy thinking about how he still wasn’t dreaming, but he had slept, and how that alone was new to him since he hadn’t actually been able to sleep since he was nineteen.

            “Thanks. See you later.”

            The young man didn’t tune back in to reality until he heard the door close, and suddenly he was alone with Darcy if one chose to ignore the resting student on the bed behind him. As Darcy stepped forward, he noticed how exhausted and worn out the doctor seemed, and he felt his brows furrow a bit. “Darc,” he asked, “you feelin’ alright?”

            “Yeah.” Darcy replied. “I’m a little tired, that’s all…”

            “You seem more than a little,” Ansel pointed out as his slightly-taller friend sat down on the stool.

            “It’s nothing,” Darcy assured him, though he wasn’t entirely sure himself as to why he was so drained.

---

 

            When Bradley got home that evening, everything seemed normal. He hadn’t had too bad of a day. Ansel seemed normal, much to his relief. Maybe he had done the right thing. After stepping inside, he closed the front door, locking it before taking his coat off and putting his keys into one of its pockets. He hung the coat in the closet to his left, then took off his boots. Once he was stripped of his winter wear, he stepped into the kitchen. Usually, his fiancée was in the living room reading at this hour, but she wasn’t today, which he attributed to that fact that she had remarked about being unusually tired that morning.

            He shrugged it off and poured himself a glass of juice. As he drank it, he heard someone upstairs, so when he swallowed, he raised his head. “Sofie?” He called, short for “Sofia”.

            There was no response, so he returned to his drink and started to walk toward the living room. He dropped the glass when he heard his fiancée start screaming upstairs. Before it even hit the ground, shattering when it did, he was already running for the stairs. “Sofia?!” He shouted.

            “Bradley!!”

            The sounds led him to the upstairs bathroom, where he could hear Sophia screaming and throwing things around. He tried to open the door, but it was locked, so he started pounding on it. “Sofia, open the door!!”

            The door flew open, and Sofia came careening out, falling into Bradley’s arms. Hysterical, she pushed past him, hiding behind him as she pointed wildly into the bathroom. “It’s him!” She screamed. “He’s trying to hurt me!”

            Bradley looked into the bathroom. The room was destroyed, but no one was in there. “I don’t see anyone!”

            “He’s right there!”

            “Who?!”

            “My son!!”