Forget Me Not

Dreams and disassociation

With the help of alcohol, Crowley slept soundly through the night. He had a dream that he'd had plenty of times before.

He was floating on his back in open ocean. The water was ink black and there was no way of telling where the ocean stopped and the sky started. The moon was blocked out by clouds, barely visible. He doesn't feel afraid by the darkness. It's actually kind of peaceful.

He does however feel incredibly alone. It's like he's an island, so far separated from everything and everyone else in the world. Crowley's had this dream a hundred times and although it's sobering, at least it's familiar. He'll bob in this dark water until morning, smelling the salty air.

The sky above him illuminates. This is new. A beam of light cuts through the darkness. It's particles scatter in the fog. Crowley splashes around to find the source. It's coming from far in the distance, too far to see. The beam sweeps across the sky and travels away. When only the essence of light is left Crowley feels cold and more alone than ever. Then the ray returns and moves over him, once again. That's how the dream continues, him drifting while a ray of light oscillates in the distant sky.

The alarm blares on the night stand. It's 8am. Crowley slept for over 12 hours but he still isn't ready to get up. When the clock goes off again in 10 minutes Crowley grabs it off the stand and throws it across the room. He knows he still has to get up, though.

Crowley would normally be upset by the state of his home but between his muscle aches and sandpaper mouth, he just doesn't care. While taking a nice hot shower, he thinks back on the day prior, specifically rushing out of work. I'll just tell them I was sick and act as if nothing happened, yeah. Easy peasy.

As soon as Crowley walks into the store Rory and Conrad are right on him asking what happened. Their yapping is the worse thing for a hangover.

"Tony, what was that yesterday," Rory says as Crowley pours himself a cup of coffee, "like, I'm not upset about it, but that was over a grand in commission!"

Crowley puts his hand out to shush him, "just- I got sick and I still have a headache so would you mind?" He takes a long drink from the mug.

Conrad had taken a big step backwards, "you still sick, man? Cause I'm not trying-"

"No, no. I think it was a 24 hour thing. I'm fine." His short dark-haired friend eyes him up and down. "Really. I'm fine," Crowley assures.

Crowley drank his coffee on the far side of the break room while his friends argued about something. He'd take it to his desk but Mrs. Graham has a strict policy on food and drink staying in the break room and even Crowley can't get away with that one.

With the help of caffeine and Advil, Anthony is feeling better but his eyes are still extremely sensitive to light. He's already sensitive due to his eye condition but not even the shades are helping today. It's easy to say that he isn't happy about going out in the lot to help customers. He needs to make up for the loss of that big commission the day before. Right now he's in dead last for sales this week and Rory is first. Conrad joked that "the natural order is out of balance."

Begrudgingly Crowley went out to help a mom who was looking for a graduation gift for her son. The biggest selling point for her was safety. He ending up selling her a BMW grand coupe. Crowley is proud of this one. Not only is it safe but he thinks any 18 year old would love this car. It's not a great sale but it's good enough for Crowley to justify hiding inside until after lunch.

Crowley gets the break room to himself at one point in the afternoon. It's the first time he's had a second to drop the mask. He leans a bit too much into the solitary moment.

While getting a clean mug out of the cabinet he gets lost in thought. Who am I? It's some thing he asks himself way too often. How did I get here? Why can I never answer these questions? The more he thinks the less he knows.

There's a buzzing in his ears that muffles the voice calling his name as he stares at a spot on the floor. His name is called louder.

"Tony!" A finger snaps and startles him. He whips his head to the right to see Elena standing next to him, looking concerned. "You okay, Tony?"

Crowley straightens up and replies, "oh, yeah. Tickety-boo." He's still not completely back to earth.

"Oh, you just seemed out of it for a minute, there," she presses, "you sure everything's okay?"

Crowley is back to starring at the spot on the ground. He's holding his empty mug with both hands and definitely doesn't look fine. "Do you ever feel like you just woke up one day and have no idea who you are?" Crowley asks in a serious voice, still starring off.

Elena isn't sure how to reply to that. "Um- no I- I don't think so," she tries, "I did feel lost for a bit after moving here from Spain."

Crowley wakes up and realizes what exactly he said. What's wrong with you! Do you want everyone to know you're crazy? He sets his mug on the counter and checks his watch, "oh hey, I should probably get back out on the floor."

He leaves the room but Elena comes with. She's worried about Crowley, "you just haven't seemed like yourself the last few days."

I wouldn't even know what seeming like myself would really be, he thinks. That's when Conrad comes in and saves Crowley.

"Hey, Tony," he looks a bit angry, "a lady outside is asking for you. Specifically." He cranes his neck to where Conrad is gesturing. "Doesn't want to buy from me," he adds, "asked specifically if the skinny red-headed man worked here." He scoffs and walks away.

Outside a woman is waiting for Crowley.

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