2019-05-20 - Lonely and Dreaming (on) the West Coast

After his less than smooth run in with some more people at the diner Easton made his way home. Sure he probably made a fool of himself in front of these people but for the first time since coming to this town he feels like he maybe, just maybe is getting what he came for. The people here do know what's happening with him. It's not all in his head. Okay, maybe some of it is, and maybe he's getting ahead of himself but still it felt like something he could put in the win column. And people are offering to talk, Geoff, Aidan and even Baylee so there's a good chance he might be able to ask at least three of his roughly 2 billion questions.

Opening the door to his apartment he calls out "Honey, I'm home!" which does in fact summon Banks to appear, appropriately miming cooking something in the kitchen. Easton just grits his teeth and smiles, see? This is fine. He has the ghost of his dead best friend living with him, that's fine. This town is chalk full of weird, and maybe someone knows why this is happening, or what it means or why Tom just offered him his hand?

Easton looks at it skeptically and after a moment shrugs and reaches out to take it, looking intently at Banks' face trying to search out why it looks like he wants him to go somewhere?

The tattoo parlor is familiar. He's been here before, wait no, this is that time!

Tom very much alive and laughing lays in a chair next to him, his ass propped up in the air for the artist to work on. Easton likewise has his pants off and is having a design inked on his buttcheek. He can't quite turn and see the guy working on him but for some reason he has the sense that it's not quite right. Wasn't it a woman? Oh who cares, this is one of his favorite memories. A story they told countless times, more than once in a rehearsed pickup routine to get ladies, particularly because it involved getting girls to request that they drop trow.

Tom from the other chair calls out, in the midst of a drunken story, "And then she just slaps me, takes the piglet and walks right out of the bathroom." The crowd of other marines either waiting their turn or showing their support all roar with laughter, particularly after Easton adds almost as if on auto-pilot, "You mean kneed you in the balls so hard you missed PT and had to claim a training incident to report to the BAS?"

The tattoo artist working on Tom barks at him to stop laughing or she'll mess it up. Easton looks at her confused for a moment, pretty sure that she was the one who tattooed him? But then the scene subtley shifts to the artists each holding a mirror above the two patrons backsides. Easton is able to read even in the mirror the expected and very real tattoo that looks like a stamp saying "Property of the USMC". Poor Tom however looks at his confused, trying to make out the acronym that doesn't look like USMC. Because Easton paid good money to the shop to ensure that his buddy ended up with "Property of ECM", Easton Charles Marshall tattooed on his ass instead.

But the waves of laughter and Benny Hill like pants-less chase that actually occurred don't follow in the dream. Instead there's a pull on Easton's shoulder as he's rolled over.

He blinks hard up at the light, and he's gone from a tattoo parlor to an operating theater. This too is a memory of sorts. He is able to get his head up and look down as he overhears the surgeon saying they need to amputate. He grits his teeth and props himself up on his elbow to see. A nurse tries to push him down and he shrugs her off. But again it's not quite the same, his left leg is already cut off below the knee and the doctors are instead working on his healthy right foot.

"No! What are you doing?! Stop!"

Easton struggles with nurses trying to strap him down while the doctors do their work. But the buzzing of a saw sends him into a near panic, he forces himself up just in time to watch the saw come down on his good leg in the exact same spot where they had to take his left leg off, just below the knee. The saw cuts and he screams and reaches out with all of the force he can muster to shove that doctor away. And just as more people rush in to the room, apparently intent on taking his good leg, he suddenly finds himself back in Gray Harbor.

In his nearly empty apartment.

Bleeding on the floor.

He stares at his leg in shock. A very clean, deep cut across his upper shin. He tries frantically to heal it. He knows that he can do that with minor scrapes or burns. He frantically tries to will that force to mend it before he realizes he needs to instead stop the bleeding and do something about it. He then realizes his prosthetic leg is across the room for some reason, where Banks pulled him into the Veil. He swears and pulls off his shirt to tie off around the wound and keep pressure. He pulls out his phone and dials 911.

"What the fuck do I say when they ask how it happened.. " It's a strange thought but then he sees the coffee table. There is clearly blood dripping along the edge and it's exactly the right height, with a gleaming steel edge that suddenly looks sharper than he ever remembered.

And why is there a bottle of whiskey out..?

"911 What's your emergency?"

...