Wick

Chapter Five

Richard

I wasn't sure whether or not to feel upset that Leon had decided to leave. Of course, it had become painfully obvious that he was one of that particularly irritating group of people who cared for other humans more than the potential of knowledge, but from the minute he walked in I knew that he was far more intelligent than the others I'd seen and subsequently lost to Patchwork Man.  He hadn't just run, he'd debated with me.  He had taken a stand, and that I found duly impressive. 

I sat down at the counter and made myself more coffee, attempting to think through everything that had happened and the potential for my next course of action.  Half of me was guessing that Leon might come back.  He was curious, that much was clear outside of his own fear.  But he was also cautious and might stay gone for a while longer.  In the meantime, I had to decide on what to do with myself. 

Patchwork wasn't going to wait for much longer. 

I had no idea where that thought was coming from or why it had entered my head, but there it stayed.  He wasn't going to wait much longer- something had to be done or I was going to die.  I stood up, knocking my chair back against the wall behind me, my mind spinning with panic.  Panic?  Why was I panicking?  I never panicked, this wasn't right, something was taking advantage of me and my current state of mind.  What even was my state of mind?  Was there even one?  I paced, every footstep pounding in my ear like a drum.  Something was wrong, so wrong, so so wrong.  My heart rate increased drastically.  I pushed myself to the window and screamed at the air. 

"Patchwork!"  Of course, he wouldn't answer to the call.  "I know you're there, Patckwork Man, and I am not going to stand for this!  You cannot take me!" 

My hands were shaking.  What was even happening?  It was one thought that didn't even make sense and there I was, raving at empty air like a lunatic and trembling like a child in a thunderstorm.  I had let it take a hold over me. 

I sunk to my knees, holding my head in my hands.  My forehead had broken out in a cold sweat.  Was this stress?  Was this a disorder?  My cat walked by on his toes, hissing.  What was I doing?

There were no lights on in the houses tonight, only a few old streetlamps lighting the road.  They looked cold.  At least nobody was awake to hear me have my breakdown.  As soon as it had started, my mind cleared and I realized the foolishness of all that had happened. 

Nothing had taken me over, that was impossible.  It was just a sort of stress, but nothing to be too concerned over.  I was all right and so was the world.  Patchwork had left and there was nothing to be on edge about, just enough to maybe be ashamed of myself.  I had been illogical, that was all.  It happened occasionally. 

I stood, straightened myself, and righted the chair I'd knocked over in my foolish panic attack.  My coffee was still out on the counter, now cooled.  How long had I been leaning against the window?  Maybe I'd blacked out, it just felt like moments.  I thought my fainting fits had ended after high school.  Who knows, one could pop up from time to time. 

I sat back down and cradled the lukewarm mug in my hands, finally calm. 

The door opened, and I'd never felt so surprised.