Unbelievable Pt. 09

"Johnny?!"

"Mama?" John muttered. His eyes slowly opened as he felt a hand stroking his hair.

"Yes, baby, I'm here, so is everyone," Katherine said, staring into her son's eyes. Seeing how the printout of the EEG was rolling out. Looking down when John placed his hand over her heart.

"Best Mom in the world," Johnny muttered. His hand fell away as he slipped back into his slumber.

Her hand shot to her mouth. Hiding her trembling lip at what her son just said to her. A phrase he hasn't spoken in five long years. Something that she was afraid she would never hear again. "Oh, my Li'l John, my sweet, sweet boy," Katherine whispered as she caressed her son's face. Peering over her right shoulder as Brandan placed a steadying hand on it.

"He's going to be out of it for a while. Let Janus and Annie stay with him; we both need rest." Brandan said as much as it hurt him to say it, he knew they were the most likely ones he would want to see the first thing he woke up.

"Then you go, I'm not leaving my baby, not ever again," Katherine said, shedding a tear as she turned her gaze back to her son.

"Then we'll take shifts; there's a free bed, me and Annie can sleep on it while Katherine keeps watch and switch off every two hours. That should give us all four hours of sleep," Janus said, getting to her feet, eyeing the free bed next to John's.

"Then you call us the first thing in the morning if he wakes up," Ruth said, coming to her side. She and Bill had franticly raced to the hospital when Ray had called them. Hearing Katherine crying over the line as he drove them towards the hospital. Telling them, John had another seizure, and he was unresponsive. "I don't have a class in the morning, so I can come and take over."

Nonetheless, while the Masters family and future family members were hashing out the details so that one of them was always with John. His mind had sent him back to the worst day of his life. The day that Buster died.

Recounting how his sister had pulled him behind the Mulberry tree. Planting the very first kiss he ever received upon his lips. Shock was evident on his young teenage face. Yet the silence in the air was deafening. That was when the loud cry of an animal tore at his mind. His head was turning so fast, franticly searching for Buster.

In the outside world, all grew still as John thrashed about in his sleep. Watching how his head turned to and fro in quick succession. How his hands tore at and bunched up the blanket as if something horrible was happening in his mind. Which it was, for at that moment, in his fractured memory, his screams of 'No, no, no!' Tormented him as the sight of Buster's bloody, broken body laid there unmoving.

"Buster!" John's voice cried out in his mind as Bill and Ray had to hold him back. "You can't be dead! You can't!" he screamed out. Trying to will his best friend back to life. Then something cold, something dark, something alien inside of his mind that had been lurking, waiting patiently for the right time to show itself, for the right factors to fall into place to make itself known. "You! You killed him! Why?! He never did anything to you!" In that state, as he clawed at the air to get to his mother, who stood there in shock and horror at the twistedness that lurked inside of his mind finally showed itself to the world, marred his face. He could feel his brothers' strength waning to hold him back. That twistedness grew in elation, knowing soon it would right a wrong. That the scales would be restored.

"John, I'm sorry, Buster came out of nowhere, it was an accident?! I swear I tried to stop, but it was too late." Katherine's apologetic voice filled his mind. Yet, to the thing he had become, it didn't matter. All that mattered was his friend was dead and lying at her feet.

"John, calm down," Ray grunted from behind him. "Bill, grab his legs."

"Let me go! She killed Buster! Don't you care!" John squirmed as they lifted him into the air.

"You stay here until you can calm down," Bill stated after they had deposited John onto his bed.

"You were never Buster's friends, were you?!" His voice took a very hard tone to it as he was fully immersed in his schizoaffective episode. His delusions that were clouding his mind were making him see his brothers as the enemy when in truth, they were just as torn up about Buster's death and John's sudden change of behavior.

"John, you don't know what you're saying," Bill said, waving off his statement.

"Maybe I should have chosen you. Yes. Yes. That sounds good. Buster will come back. He will; I know it. Wouldn't you like that, Bill? Wouldn't you like to help bring Buster back? I know I would." A maddening look was etched on John's face as he turned his gaze towards them. "Why don't you come close? No need to be shy. Just let me wrap my hands around your neck. It will all be better soon. I promise," John said in a deathly tone. Seeing Bill not as he was but the monster his delusion had made of his brother. John's insane laughter followed them out as they darted quickly out of his room.

Forty-five minutes had passed as John sat cross-legged on his bed waiting. Eagerly waiting for the monsters to return. All so he could return his beloved friend back to him. His insane mind whispered to him. Telling him that if he did, Buster would be good as new. John had no reason to doubt the voice. It sounded like a brilliant plan to him. He had to take a life to restore a life. It sounded quite logical to him. Even the voice thought so. So there he waited with two very, very sharp pencils resting on either side of him. Tilting his head, a wicked smile formed on his lips when he heard steps approaching as the heavy rain clouds unleashed their torrent onto the earth. A cruel, vile grin spread across his lips as his fingers wrapped around the pencils. His feet compressed his mattress as he squatted on it, waiting for the moment to spring into action. "Soon," he told himself, "soon Buster will be back. He's going to be so happy to see me!"

"John! What in the hell are you doing?!" Brandan roared as he barely caught his son's arms when his son leapt at him unexpectedly.

"Don't you see! They're monsters! Monsters have to die! Why are you stopping me?!" John bemoaned, struggling to free himself from his father's grasp.

"Hurry, Bill, he's like a bucking bronco," Brandan grunted, wondering where this strength was coming from. He saw the wildness of his son's eyes. It wasn't his son looking back at him. He knew that in an instant. "John, calm down. They aren't monsters; they're your brothers," he said, trying to instill reason into his son.

"Brothers?!" For a moment, that did register in John's brain, yet only for a moment. Nonetheless, that moment was all Brandan needed to pin John's arms to his side. Keeping those sharp objects in his hand from harming them or himself. "So... you're one of them, masquerading as my father. You wanted Buster dead too, didn't you?" John's voice was cold and alien as he stared hatefully at the thing that he couldn't overpower. At that moment, in his mind, he didn't see his father but a globous blob that had him ensnared. Knowing something had to be done. He had to find where these monsters had hidden his family and free them if he could. First, he had to find a way to deal with the foes before him. Yet, he needed help. He was just a little kid.

"John, what are you talking about? No one wanted Buster dead, no one. Don't you remember when we brought Buster home? Don't you remember how he wouldn't stop licking my face? If I was a monster, would Buster do that?" Brandan asked, trying to reach his son. He had no clue what was happening to John, yet he knew they weren't equipped to handle it. Watching how John looked to the left and to his right as if he was talking to someone.

"If you're not a monster, what's Buster's favorite toy after he has a bath?" John said, trying to throw the thing that believed he was his father off.

"That's a trick question since Buster rolls around on that old blanket to get himself dirty again."

"He knows," looking to his right, "what am I to do?" John asked the imaginary image to his left.

"I'm done," Bill stated

"Go! Tell your mother to call 911!" Brandan ordered. His muscles strained as that insane strength that surged through his son tried to lunged at Bill as he left the room. "You want to see Buster, right?" He knew this was wrong, so wrong, to lie to his own son. Yet he feared if he let go of John's arms, it would be him that would be stabbed with those pencils. "You know it was a joke, right? Your mother just took it a little too far. Buster's just fine. But you have to wait here so I can get him, alright?" Seeing that insane light in his son's eyes just brightening, thinking that Buster was indeed still alive and not buried in the backyard.

"It wasn't a very funny joke," John said darkly.

"I know; I thought so too. But he's alright," praying that his son could forgive him for this, "just let me go get him, okay, you stay right here."

"Okay," John nodded. Dropping the pencils, thinking Buster wouldn't want to see him with such things in his hands. However, the moment the door closed behind his father, so did the lock on his door, which had been reversed to keep him contained in his room. The moment he saw the door handle, John rushed to the door. His body bouncing off of it as it held true. "Deceiver! Monster! Murderer!" John screamed out, his fist pounding the door as he did until he was red in the face.

"See?! Only monsters deceive. They can't be trusted," the voice whispered in his delusional mind as John paced his room. Lightning crackled overhead, shaking the house; its blue-white light filled his room. Turning his head towards the window when his new friend, someone, that to his mind was being truthful to him, or at least that's what his mind thought of at the time. "Go. Buster is waiting."

"Huh?"

"He isn't dead. He's alive; they wanted to kill him. Hurry?!" John saw a dark figure standing at the edge of the grave site of where Buster was put to rest. Hurriedly taking off his shoes and socks. He didn't want them to hear that their prison couldn't keep him contained. He was going to save his friend! It didn't matter if it was pouring down rain, lightning striking a mile away. No. None of that mattered to John. All that mattered was saving Buster. His body became instantly soaked as he eased down his bedroom window when he stood on the porch's roof.

"I'm coming, Buster," John muttered in determination. Barely registering the fall after he had let go of the overhang of the roof. Ignoring the pain when he fell backward onto his ass. Causing the water that stood on the lawn to splash out from around him. Slowly inching out of the light that played through the window as those that appeared to be his parents, yet to his mind were actually monsters, were discussing something, what that was he couldn't say; nor did he care to know. Once he knew they didn't see him. Didn't realize that he had escaped their clutches. John raced to Buster's grave.

Water poured down his face. Globs of mud clung to his hands as he hurriedly dug with his hands to free Buster. Always muttering, 'I'm here, I'm here. Don't worry. I won't leave you.' An insane smile formed on his lips once he had uncovered Buster. To his mind, Buster was panting for air, not the lifeless body before him. "There you are," John said in a loving voice as he brushed his hand along Buster's head.

He didn't know how long he sat there on the back of his legs, holding Buster's dead body to him. It took all five of them to pry Buster's dead, wet, bloody body from his arms as he thrashed wildly in his brothers' arms once they had separated the two of them...

John bolted to a sitting position in his hospital bed. Pulling off the electrodes on his forehead as he did. A maddening look appeared in his eyes as he stared down at his hands. Not seeing them clean but covered in blood. Buster's and Julia's. The blood of his two only friends in the world. Blood that will never come off. Not seeing how Annie held Janus back when she knew he wasn't in his right mind.

"Johnny," Bill took a step forward while Brandan and Ray kept Wanda and Ruth out of arms reach. "Johnny, do you know where you are?" he asked, being the only one that's had any professional experience, albeit in a classroom setting, it was still more than anyone else had; and he was determined to reach his brother. Wherever he was in his mind at the time. Taking a dry swallow as his brother turned his gaze towards him. He could tell that John was on the verge of an episode. "Mom, get a nurse, lots of them," Bill warned.

"Is the monster afraid of Li'l John? Come closer," a very creepy smile formed on his lips as his former persona surfaced, "come on, I'm just a little boy, surely you can't be afraid of me?!"

"Johnny, honey, you're not yourself; come back to me," Janus pleaded from the foot of his bed. Seeing the blank look on his face when he peered at her. "Remember, Johnny, you aren't that little anymore. You aren't in that place. You're safe here with us. We aren't the monsters you're seeing." Praying that her voice was reaching him. Praying that he wouldn't be thrown back into a ward. She knew if that happened, she would lose John forever.

"I... what... you're confusing me!" Johnny grumbled. He wasn't about to be deceived, not again!

"John, can you hear me, my Lil John?" Katherine's voice was sweet and soft once she had returned. Buying the nurses time to get the restraints in case John became violent.

"Mama?" John's voice changed its cadence as he turned his gaze towards her.

"Yes, baby, I'm right here," Katherine said, slowly approaching his bedside. "You had another seizure. You're in the hospital."

"I am?" Johnny muttered, confused.

"Yes, honey," Katherine nodded. "Your mind is playing tricks on you. No one here is a monster, not even you. You're just special. But you need help right now. These people are going to help you, so you don't hurt yourself or anyone else," she said, gesturing to the nurses as they poured into the room. "Will you be my good Li'l John for me?"

"Please, Johnny, it's just for right now," Annie pleaded as she held Janus against her. "Can you cooperate with them for us?"

"Anastasia?" John muttered, blinking his eyes a few times, causing the delusion to dispel from his sight.

"Yes, Johnny, it's me. We've been here the whole time," Annie said. Her heart fluttered when he used her given name.

"You've grown," Johnny said, still in the mindset of five years ago.

"As did you," Annie retorted with a smile. Keeping his attention on her as the doctor injected John with a sedative. "Be a good little brother and let them help you."

"Help me how?!" Johnny growled, struggling the best that he could with the nurses, yet there wasn't much he could do in his weakened state.

"So you can rest and sleep this episode off."

"Johnny, please, don't fight them, can you do that for me? I don't want them taking you away from us," Janus said, placing her hand over their baby that was growing healthy in her womb.

"Right. No fighting," Johnny muttered as her words finally breached his confused mind. His green eyes ran up and down Janus' body as the memories, he had acquired after his return home flooded his mind. "You shouldn't see me like this," he uttered low as he watched the nursed shackling him to the bed rails.

"I take you any day of the week with the good and the bad," Janus said firmly, resting her hand on John's right shin.

"Johnny, do you know where you are?" Bill asked once again.

"Oregon." Johnny retorted in a smartass tone.

"I meant specifically where you are at the moment."

"Oregon, in a hospital, better?" Johnny replied combatively.

"Can I ask what brought your episode out?" Bill asked, noting how all the others were listening intently as John tugged on the restraints.

"A memory."

"You remembered something?!" Katherine and Brandan asked in unison. "Can you tell us what memory it was?" Shaking his head, John wasn't ready to talk about it.

"It was when Buster died, wasn't it?" Bill asked, remembering the only time he called them monsters was on that day. He didn't realize it then, moreover, understood what was happening to John at that moment. Now. Now, he did, and he knew that was the first time John experienced his very first episode. "I'm sorry, Johnny, I know how much he meant to you," he said, laying a hand on his brother's leg when John nodded. Yet John's eyes weren't on him but on Annie.

"What?!" Annie asked, blushing underneath his gaze.

"I remember," Johnny said, laying back on the bed as he felt the drug starting to kick in.

"You remember what, Johnny?" Annie asked, curious as was everyone else in the room when he said those words.

"How you got that scar on your left knee," Johnny stated in a matter-of-fact manner. Turning his head when his mother's hand flew to her mouth.

"Johnny, what exactly do you remember?" Annie asked, stepping towards the foot of his bed

"Buster, you, me, out in the backyard, playing. You fell. I went to check on you. Mom came running down the steps..." Giving his mother a quick glance, comparing her past self to her present one. "She said: I almost gave her a heart attack." Seeing Bill propping up their mother as Katherine's knees gave out. Her eyes were quivering. Filled with emotions too numerous to name as John continued on.

"What happened next, Johnny?" Annie urged him on. She had to know if it was a real memory or something his mind was falsifying. So far, it had held true.

"I took you to the kitchen. I kissed your knee. But I don't think it worked. You were still hurting," Johnny said truthfully.

Everyone looked to Annie and Katherine, wondering if what he had said was true or not. John could see the hope in their eyes.

"Oh, Johnny, you do remember," Annie said with tears in her blue-green eyes. "I'm so happy that you do."

"But to do so, I become this," Johnny said, rattling the shackles against the railings. "But it's for the best. Best that you aren't hurt because of me," he spoke, his eyes squarely on Janus. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do, was hurt her or their baby. "Sorry, I thought you were monsters," Johnny uttered, turning his gaze to his family. "I know who the real monsters are now."

"Johnny, son, I know that day was hard, especially what came after it. I know we didn't handle it as well as we should have, yet we didn't..."

"I know; you think I understand myself?" Johnny asked, cutting his father off. "I might resent you for what you did; I don't blame you for trying to help. Even if that help put me through a Hell you can't even imagine," he said darkly. "I'm going to sleep now," yawning loudly, "Mom?" Johnny mumbled as he closed his eyes.

"Yes, baby, what is it?" Katherine asked with a trembling voice.

"Take Janus home, will you?"

"Johnny?!" Janus said, not eager to be separated from him at this critical time.

"It's not good for the baby, her worrying about me. Will you do that for me?" Johnny inquired, opening his eyes a fraction of an inch.

"Of course, Johnny, but don't you want her to stay with you?" Katherine asked, casting Janus a glance.

"I do; however, her sleeping here will put too much stress on her. She needs to be comfortable," Johnny said, remembering what he read in Janus' pregnancy book. "Plus, she takes care of me; I have to take care of her, too." Not seeing how red Janus' face lit up when he said that. "One more thing." The room grew silent as they all waited for him to continue.