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(No "action" in this one, FYI)
 

Buff woke up, trying not to think too much. Last night had been surprising. He faced some shit, though, and was more relaxed than he'd been in a while.
A cigarette floated to his lips. Since he didn't move or resist - no point in that - the old lighter being set against his right palm wasn't moving in any kind of a hurry either.
How many times, he thought vaguely, lighting up.
"You," he said to the ceiling. Buff was smirking. Mixed feelings about that, too, but the touch-buddy had sorta done him a solid last night.
"Me," the phantom drawled. Slybud.

He nodded. "Tell me if I got this wrong. Last night you, uh, massaged my shoulders. Didn't creep into my pits, and so forth. Now, I know that all the shit will be coming again from ya... but you helped me get through, uh, remembering some dark shit. Didn't have to lay off the fireworks, didn't want to, but you did."
Gloves sauntered down. Soft black leather. Two, four. They eased over his collarbones, around his shoulder-joints. "You got it right. I think everybody's been waiting for that big chunk of memories to sink in. Over and done with. Too much to handle, all at once."
"Why would you fuckers care? You got us caught real good."
The invisible hands paused. "Same reason I always have. There's good payback, from handling you, and then there's better payback. Distractions suck."
"So it's off to some lockdown. Fortified cabin. A week of touching that leads into next week."
"And the next," Slybud agreed. "You don't joke around like that very much. Is that a hint for me, howler-dude?"
"Naaaah. Yikes. As if I got any say in it? Might as well tell you I quit smokin', that's it, no more." He groaned. "You wanna tear into me for a month, or the whole summer, and -"
"The whole year," it interrupted.
"Yeah. Uh... but I can't get over that you helped me. Before and after the festivities, right?"
"Well, we're buds."
"I know," he snapped. "Dammit."

"Aaaah," it crowed, realizing what he was frowning about. "That again. The magical tickler is not somebody you wanna bond with."
"Well, c'mon," he protested. "Kidnapper."
"Haven't heard that in a while."
"Still tryin' to figure it all out," Buff mumbled.
"It was damn nice to me, when I was bawlin', and now it just can't wait to get at my feet," the invisible prankster teased. "Ain't right to... appreciate this touch-pro. It never gets enough."
He thought that over. "Exactly."
"But here we are." It seemed to be fighting not to chuckle.
"Uh-huh," he sighed. "Bonding."
"Do I own you?"
"No, you do not," he snapped.
"Am I... mischevious?"
"Always," he groaned. It had taught him that word last year. Slybud could've been totally hardcore, all the time, but it had been laid-back. A practical joker with all the time in the world, bringing on the mega-handling gradually - but it always came. No way to talk it out of that.

He went to the mess hall. Invisible hands cooked up a mound of scrambled eggs and sausages in almost no time at all.
A few minutes later, Animal was marched-dragged over to his table. A coffee cup followed him...
"Shit," the work-mentor sighed, "I guess it thinks you need me."
"Uh..." Buff didn't know the other guy all that well. He was a core, and definitely looked after a few of the newer arrivals at the camp. Nuthin' to lose, filling Animal in, that seemed to be a safe bet. "I just need to run a couple of things past you. Won't take too long." He took in a breath, and eased it out. "A lot came back to me last night. Stuff I saw when things fell apart."
That didn't seem to bore or annoy the older guy. "You came out of West LA, right?"
"Yeah. Rancho Park," Buff replied. He was distracted, but the other dude was focused on listening. "When the riots started, though, I was east. Montebello. Got back to my old stomping grounds the next morning. Walked in a mile or two, mostly on Pico..." He gulped. "Saw a lot of damage. Buildings... and people."
Animal finally nodded, sipping coffee and waiting. "Victims."
"Yeah. Too many."
The other guy leaned closer. "You're doin' really well with this."
"I wasn't last night. Shit."
"Who did you recognize? Out there?"
Buff closed his eyes. "Dammit. A teacher, from school. Third grade. There were a couple of... brother-and-sister. We did sports stuff a few years ago in Stoner Park."
"The troubles got reee-eal personal for ya."
"Real and personal. Yup."

The mentor looked relieved. He lit a cigarette. "You're handling it about as well as anybody could, Buff. It seems like you're not as spacey today. Really here. The biggest shock is probably over with."
"I think so. Yeah."
After a nod, Animal seemed to be distracted. "Talk it out - me or Jesse, anytime, plow through the shit, it's gotta go..." He was listening... a-ha, Slybud or one of 'em was whispering something. Rolling his eyes, he smirked at Buff and then looked down at his coffee. "There might be something else worth shooting the shit about."

Buff thought that over. "Uh -" "Somebody mentioned a particular word. Shit. The way you said it a little while ago."
"Ooooh. How mysterious. What did I say?"
"Bonding."
He nodded eventually, and wouldn't have brought up that topic to one of the leader-cores. Slybud had made a few disturbingly correct calls, though. "It's been too nice to me. Holding off, sometimes."
"And now, that's gonna change?"
"No surprise, there. So what? It put up with me... not remembering the details. Faces I recognized. So I was sleepwalking, kinda." Since the mentor didn't look disgusted, Buff leaned closer. He closed his eyes. "That tickler was out to, uh, for me to get better. And it's workin'. I owe it, man. Mischevious prick."
That got a laugh out of Animal. "Didn't want to bond with that."
"But it happened."
The older guy shrugged.

"Some of us," he said casually, "are still suckin' in air because of them. I'm not afraid to admit that. I have one - no, make that two of 'em - that turned into actual fuckin' friends, when they're not stickin' it to me. Some cores I know real well are even closer to ones they've known for a couple decades. Considering what happened everywhere - and what we made it through - there's nothing to be ashamed about here, Buff.
"Uh... Keep talkin'."
It takes what it takes, to keep on truckin'. Some howlers are too fuckin' macho to admit it, like any kind of a positive feeling about 'em makes what they do to us is okay. No excuses!"
Animal looked like he wanted to say more, but he was definitely waiting for some kind of response first. "It did me right, though, too."
"I get that. Being a buddy... of a considerate phantom ain't that rare. Okay? Slybud may royally piss you off tonight. Next week. We're still in the crosshairs, but we gotta cope somehow. Go easy on yourself. Leaning on the fuckin' ticklers - for support - ain't the same as goin' along with their mindfucks. And sometimes, dammit, they actually wanna help."
"You know," Buff sighed, "and you get it."
"Any talkin' about this shit that seems like it'll help, dude, I'm here for that."
"Yeah."
"You're not the only one," Animal said, looking around sneakily as he stood up, "and neither am I."

Buff ate smoke. "Better?" Slybud asked.
After a sigh, its target nodded.
"I got some distraction for you."
He closed his eyes. "Can't wait, huh?"
"Nnnope."
"You want me back in a cell."
"Number fourteen. One-four. Now."
"Shit..." But he started walking.

29jan23