Motel

Written by Anakin McFly

Not-Tim waits in the car outside the motel.

His is the only car around; perhaps because the people who stay here don't usually arrive by conventional means. His windows are down, letting in the cold night air, but he doesn't mind. He has on his usual blazer, and that keeps him warm enough.

Plus, with the windows down, he can hear them.

The sound is muffled, the way it is when behind closed doors and windows. But it's enough for now. He can hear the drone of conversation interrupted by barks of laughter; sometimes he thinks he can pick out Conor, just from the way he laughs, and can imagine his face and how he's probably getting progressively drunker and progressively happier, and might eventually pass out on the floor.

Figures move past the windows. There's no real method to that: just people, passing by. Maybe moving to get more food, more drink, to talk to another person, to step over Conor. A figure pauses by the window with his back to him. Not-Tim leans over the steering wheel and squints, but can't see who it is. By the way they move, maybe Alex, or Neo. Whoever it is has a cup in his hand and lifts it occasionally to his mouth for a drink.

He hears a television come on somewhere inside. Background noise. He doubts anyone is actually paying attention. Maybe one or two.

For the fifth time that night, he's tempted to get out of the car and knock on the door and maybe, just maybe, be allowed inside. But he can't, he won't, because he knows that it would ruin it. His presence always changes things. He doesn't want to change things. It's like quantum physics, he thinks. The act of observation alters the system; collapses it; destroys it.

He thinks wistfully of being able to observe them from the inside without disturbing that balance. He's one of them and yet not. It's a particle, it's a wave.

He knows he could always pretend: pretend to be one of them. He could fake it perfectly if their ages were close enough. He used to be them once. All of them. But he doesn't like the dishonesty of that, and it feels disrespectful, somehow. It denies them their personhoods and identities, and he wants them to know that he does see them as human, no different from any other that he knows.

And so it always comes down to this: them on the inside, him on the outside, waiting for a chance that he can never get-

The door opens. The person there isn't looking at him at first, still engaged with the others inside. "Yeah, I'm... just getting some air."

Then Neo turns and steps out, and sees him, and pauses there as the door swings shut with an inaudible click.

"...Hi," Neo says.

"Hi."

Neo rubs his nose. His eyes flick to his face and he takes a few hesitant steps forward. "How long have you been..." He gestures at the car.

"A while."

Neo nods. He looks around, awkwardly, as though hoping for some kind of escape to make things less awkward, but fails to find any. "You, uh... you want to come in?"

Yes.

"I don't think I should," he says, and maybe Neo can detect the sad, unspoken desire in his voice, because he looks uncomfortable. But then again, Neo usually does look uncomfortable, and he stops his train of thought there before it gets into unsettlingly-meta areas of character study.

He can sense some strange inner struggle going on in Neo's head, but before he can ask, Neo speaks: "You could... pretend to be me," he says. "Most of them are a little drunk, and I don't... I don't think they'll notice..." Neo takes a breath. "I don't really like parties," he adds.

"I'm not you, Neo."

"I know."

Neo is a better person than he is. And Neo made him a better person.

"It's okay, really," Neo said. "I... I don't really want to go back, and..."

"I don't want to lie to them."

Neo nods. "Okay."

"But you don't have to go back in if you don't want to." Wry smile. "You could stay out here and keep me company."

Neo returns the smile. Not-Tim wonders how often Neo actually found a reason to smile, and feels a little sad for him.

"I know there are rumours that I'm a vampire, but I'm not, really," he says.

Neo finds the courage and moves a little closer. The car is a barrier between them. Not-Tim makes up his mind, and gets out of the car. It's a step. It's halfway there. Meeting them halfway.

He thinks he hears the conversation quieten a little after he slams the car door shut (and belatedly regrets it), but nothing happens.

Neo raises his face to the sky, maybe to avoid looking at him. It's a clear night. Pure. There's a breeze blowing, and there's something freshly alien about it. But then there's something alien about this place, in one of those surreal in-between worlds they found loaded on their Interdimensional Travelling Device Thingies – the kind of worlds where people didn't bulk at groups of people like them, because they're always used to things being a little strange. And they're good with keeping secrets. But Neo keeps him up to date on the meetings. Just in case he might want to know.

Not-Tim follows Neo's gaze upwards. They don't speak. They don't need to, and after a while, Not-Tim senses Neo starting to relax a little. They're just two guys hanging out. Both human. Equals.

"Did they book the whole place?" Not-Tim asks.

"No. Just a few rooms. Until morning. But I don't think there's anyone else around."

"Are you staying?"

Neo shrugs. "Yeah. I think I have the room to myself, so it's okay."

A bit lonely, but okay. He doesn't really want it any other way; this group can get rowdy when there's alcohol and Conor and Jjaks involved... and Utah, Falco, the kids...

"Where's your room?"

"Upstairs."

"I could walk you there, if you like. I should be going anyway."

"Sure. Thanks."

They walk. Unhurried steps, because they have all the time in the world.

They climb the stairs in mutual silence, and go along the corridor to Neo's room. Neo pulls out the key from his pocket and unlocks the door. Flicks on the light. It's a simple room, but cosy. They can hear the others through the floor, a few rooms away.

Neo looks at the bed. Stares around at the walls a bit, then looks at Not-Tim.

"You'll be okay?" Not-Tim asks.

Neo nods. "Yeah. Uh, thanks."

Not-Tim pats him on the back. "Get some rest."

He gives Neo a farewell smile, then turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Down the stairs. The noise of the partying gets louder as he approaches. He pauses a moment by the side of the window, unseen, just knowing that they're there.

Then he gets back into his car and sets his ITDT for home. No... not quite home. His house, maybe, his world, and he's used to thinking of that as home, but there's something in him that tells him that if he's looking for home, there's no need to leave.

Only he has to. It does not do well to dwell in dreams.

So he starts the car. And he drives off. And he tries not to look back.

On the second floor by the window, Neo watches him go.

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