WIRED (dan howell au)

chapter two ~ memory

"Hazel! Hazel, please, wake up!"

I hear a voice. I feel pain at the back of my head. I see a blur of a face. What happened?

"Dan?" I croak. Something must have knocked me out.

"Hazel! Thank God!" Why is he so worried about me? And why the hell are his arms still around me? I quickly push them away.

I am not getting close to someone again.

And then a thought hits me like a brick. I shoot up like a rocket, a bit too fast for the state I'm in. "How much time has passed?"

"I'm not sure, maybe 10 minutes?" He replies.
"We have to leave. Now." I stand up by as soon as I do, I realize that I physically can't and accidentally fumble into a wall. I quickly regain my balance by clutching on to Dan's shirt. "Uh, sorry," I let go.

"Hazel, you cannot leave like this."
"I have too. I have to save you. And myself."
"You can't do that. Not when your like this. Something hit you in the back of the head, like a piece of brick or something. You look really pale, too." He reaches up to my face, but I step out of reach before I know what he was going to do.

I go to touch the back of my head and feel a warm liquid. Blood.

Oh God. Blood.

A wave of dizziness washes over me again and I stagger a bit.
Dan immediately grabs hold of me and makes sure I don't fall over.

"Please, don't touch me," my voice cracks. I push him away, but I end up falling back and hitting the floor.
My thoughts are venturing back into the dark, painful abyss of memories that I thought I left behind.

BANG!
BANG!
BANG!

"NO! PLEASE! STOP!" I scream.

I feel tears rushing down my cheeks.

"Hazel? What's wrong?" His voice is soft. He attempts to comfort me but I back away. My breathing is getting faster, my heart beat is accelerating.

Why is my head the only true enemy I have? I think too much and the next thing you know I'm having a panic attack. I thought that I overcame my anxiety, but no, it's back for another round.

I can't run away from my past, it always seems to catch up.

"I'm sorry," I whimper.
He crouches down, "What for? You did nothing wrong." Although he doesn't know that I'm not talking to him but to the flashback I am reliving, he still is being kind. He is so gentle. But I can't forget the fact that he is still a stranger.

And then I start sobbing.
Let me tell you, panic attacks are a pain in the ass.

Dan doesn't say anything. He stares for a few moments. I curl up and pull my knees into my chest with my back pressed against the front door.
He goes and sits beside me, still silent, processing what's going on. His arms wrap around me once again, bringing me closer, into a hug.
"It's okay. As long as I'm here, nothing is going to touch you. I'm right here. You're safe." He whispers. He starts stroking my hair gently.
Whatever this comfort gesture is, it's working.

But seconds are ticking by.

"We need to go," I whisper.
"Okay, but walk slowly, I don't want you to fall again. I'll be right here."

Why is he helping me? He is treating me like an old friend that hasn't been in contact with him until now. Only to find out that his old friend turned into a victim of post traumatic stress disorder.

But why are you letting him help you?

Shut up, Hazel.

He helps me stand and and walk slowly up the stairs. His hands resting my back and my shoulder, making sure I don't fall again. I open the door to the only room I use on the upper floor. My bedroom.

"Just grab any bag you can find and fill it with stuff you think is important," I instruct. I have quite a few bags everywhere. For emergencies.
"Got it. Are you okay now?" He lets go of my arm.
"Yes, I'm fine now," I lie. I wish I could talk about it, just let it all out. I've been alone for so long, I don't know what to do with these emotions, these feelings. How do I control them? "Thank you, Dan."
"No problem," he smiles. He has dimples and it only makes him look cuter.

No, stop. No human relationships. He is just temporarily here. He won't think about me once he goes of on his own.

Damn my thoughts.
They can be a real bitch sometimes.

We go around my room for 2 minutes just shoving things in bags. I find old family pictures I've hidden under my bed and stick them in one of my backpacks pockets. I'll burn them later. It is only another lane of memories I prefer not to take an afternoon stroll down.

"Dan? Are you ready?" I ask.
"Yeah, let's go," He seems... nervous? Oh.
I tell him. "The thing about night is... well... zombies. After this gas was released into the air, it created mutant, zombie things."
"What?!" He exclaims.
"They won't usually bother you, but if you seem like a good midnight snack there're going to start to go after you. But they aren't that fast anyways. They are easy to take down, too. A good blow to the head will do."
"I'm still nervous."
"That only means you're human."
"Oh good, I was getting the idea that I was a robot or something."
I hesitate for a few moments, but then I laugh and he joins in.

"We're going to need these," I open the closet and bring out two baseball bats.
"Really?"
I shrug. "Safety first." He goes and grabs one of the bats and readjusts the 2 backpacks he has on his shoulder. I readjust mine. We have about 4 bags in total. Food, personal stuff I have, clothes. I also have old clothes that would probably fit Dan, so I'm bringing it along.
We walk down the stairs together. I look and see where the bomb went off.
There is a gaping hole in what used to be my living room wall. The darkness from the night outside is seeping in, engulfing the little amount of inside light we have. There is damage in the ceiling. The lights are flickering.
I can't guarantee that this house is sturdy enough to live in anymore.
I see movement stirring outside, a mutant.
As Dan goes to the front room, I turn off all the lights.
I meet up with him at the door.

"Remember, I'm right here and I'm not leaving you."
I nod and he opens the door.

The cool air blows in.

Let's go kick some undead ass.

Finally, a thought of mine I can happily agree with.