fandomhighdorms | In Room 212:

Worried about Marty when she realizes she hasn't seen or heard from him since Saturday morning, Angela raps lightly on his door.

Marty opens the door and sees Angela standing there. He blinks a couple of times just to make sure she doesn't fade away.

"Hi."

Angela can tell he's not in great shape. His eyes are red and he hasn't shaved in a few days, and he stands there grippping the doorframe as though he expects it to shimmer away.

"Hi. I just haven't seen you since Saturday. Is everything ... okay?," she says, pretty certain it isn't.

Marty rubs his eyes and then shakes his head. He tries to attempt a complete sentence.

"Detention... worse than I thought. Dream..."

Marty trails off and shakes his head again.

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday," Angela says simply. "Should I go get Dr. House for you or something?"

Three days?

Marty slumps into a chair.

"Haven't been able to sleep. Kept having nightmares." he mumbles.

Angela kneels at his side and awkwardly feels his forehead. No fever, and she isn't even sure why she did it.

"What kind of nightmares?" she asks.

Marty flinches just a bit at her touch, like he was surprised it was real.

He gently touches her cheek.

"You... You got hurt. I couldn't stop it. I'm sorry."

Angela reaches up to take his hand.

"I'm here. I'm fine. It was just a bad dream."

Marty holds on to Angela's hand tightly.

"I'm so sorry. I should have told you."

Marty rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"I should have answered your question about the other night."

It takes a second for Angela to process what he's saying through her worry.

"Which question? It can't be important right now." She's looking for the school phone directory. "I should, I should call Dream, even if you don't need the Clinic."

Marty gives her a serious look that somehow cuts through his delirium.

"It is important. It's why I-"

Marty blinks hard.

"It's about you."

Marty holds onto Angela's arm.

"River got in my head and saw what brought me here. I did a crappy thing to someone I cared about. Since then I've done crappier things. Much crappier. River told me about *her* and I couldn't take it."

Marty giggles.

"I went nuts."

Angela's heart is thudding through her chest, but she's trying hard to stay calm, to smile even.

"You know -- I talked to River, Saturday. She told me some of what happened, and some of what she ... saw." And it was really scary, she thinks but does not say. "Couldn't you, I don't know, make it right? Call Debbie and let her know where you are? I've hurt people I loved, too, and it was always better when we talked about it."

"Noooo," moaned Marty. He tries to shake his head but it just rolls around like a bobble head doll.

"Listen.... Then there was a tree."

Marty gives Angela a look of bewilderment.

"Who gets attacked by a tree? Then there was a croquet mallet... and River in my head again and I just had to get out... so I went to find you. At the record store."

Marty looks at the hand that is grabbing Angela's arm and realizes he's holding it too tightly. He loosens his grip and gently holds her arm.

"I went looking for you. Do you understand? Not Debbie. I don't know why I couldn't tell you that Saturday."

His hand burnsher , and Angela pulls her arm away, trying to make sense of this. "A tree? Marty, I -- you can't get attacked by a tree."

And teachers don't have squid monsters as pets, she thinks.

"Why were you looking for me? When you saw me you ran away. You can't - we can't - I can't-" Angela's voice breaks off, and she sees how terribly confused Marty is.

Start at the beginning, she thinks, and her voice softens. "What did you do to her? Debbie."

Marty blinks a couple of times and hangs his head.

"I left her. On prom night, I left town and never went back. I ran away."

"I left her. On prom night, I left town and never went back. I ran away."

"And she's still in love with you," Angela says, flatly. "River found out."

She takes a deep breath.

"I won't ask why you ran away. You would have had your reasons. But ... why can't you call Debbie and apologize? Be with her, or be with me, I'll survive, but if it's giving you nightmares like this..."

[OOC: Starting a new thread]

Marty shakes his head with a booble like effect. His voice got frantic.

"Detention gave me nightmares. Dream gave me nightmares. The worst nightmares over and over again. You were getting hurt and I couldn't stop it. I-"

Marty takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. His breathing becomes regular almost calm. He looks at Angela and he looks almost sane.

"I don't want to be with her. That's what I'm trying to say."

Marty reaches out with his hand.

"I want to be here. With you."

"And I want you to be here. With me," she says.

She wishes she could end it there.

"Marty. River told me some other stuff. Can I ask you about it now? I need to. To trust you."

Marty closes his eyes and nods.

deep breaths, Angela thinks. At least he's not a vampire, right?

She tries to remember if she's ever seen Martin outside in daylight.

"Your ... guns. I know you had a lot of them before the ban. You used them, kind of a lot." She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, and the last, scary bit comes out all in a rush. "How does someone our age from Michigan get so good at shooting things?"

Marty sighs. Time to come clean.

"When I left Michigan, I lied about my age, joined the Army and took the service exam. They found my psych results fit a certain profile. A certain "Moral flexibility" would be the best way to describe it.... I was loaned out to a CIA-sponsored program. It's called "mechanical operations." We sort of found each other...."

Marty trails off.

"But I don't work for them any more."

(OOC: Disclaimer: Taken from the movie more or less. Strictly for educational purposes. I swear)

Angela furroughs her brow; this doesn't sound so bad. "Mechanical op-" she starts to say.

Then the pieces fall together. The casual gun to Zero's head, the rage, the emptiness River saw inside him, the dangerous, almost feral energy that comes from Marty 90 percent of the time.

"You shot at people," she says. "You killed people."

She can see in Marty's eyes that she has it right, but she doesn't wait for him to respond. She can't, she's out the door, she's in the hallway, at the stairs, charging to -- somewhere, she doesn't know where -- slick with sweat and tears.

[OOC: *wild applause. Now we need to figure out what comes next.*]

In Room 212:

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