In The Flesh

Chapter Six.

Thomas sat shocked for a moment, considering what he should do. He must've sat for a while, because suddenly Fanny was there in the doorway, huffing in disgust.
"Well, Thomas. I'm glad YOU'RE staying here. Those wretched beasts out there are leaving to a PUB. Can you believe-" Thomas shot up out of his chair and rushed out the door.
He stumbled into Robin who growled at him. "Sorry," Thomas sighed, glancing around.
"Are we leaving now?" He asked breathlessly. Robin grunted and Mike shot him a thumbs up. The group made their way out to Mike's car and Thomas followed, his heart pounding with excitement. He hadn't been anywhere in hundreds of years, he didn't know how it felt to leave. He wondered what had changed and what stayed the same.
Robin sat in the front with Mike, whooping like the madman he was. Thomas awkwardly squeezed in next to the captain, who shot him a sideways grin.
"Excited to see the sights, Thorne?" He rolled his shoulders, adjusting the hoodie Alison gave him. He looked rather nice, despite the casual jeans and tee shirt he wore. Thomas looked down at his nearly identical outfit and wondered why everyone seemed to look so much more put together than him.
He brushed off his shirt self consciously and said, "I'm a bit nervous, if I'm honest..." The captain rolled his shoulders again, rubbing his neck.
"Well, I hate that house and I'm glad to be out, personally." He sighed and closed his eyes. Thomas felt a twinge of pity for the man.
"Mike," the captain said as they drove. "Can I borrow some money?"
"Ali's paying, Cap."
"I know, but I'd like to buy something-"
"Fine, sure," Mike handed back a small wad of dollars, which Thomas gaped at. Money was another thing he was going to have to get used to seeing in large amounts.
The captain grinned and tucked it in his breast pocket, winking at Thomas.
"Always nice to have a bit of cash on you, eh, Thorne?"
Thomas stared at him.
"Who are you and what have you done with the real captain?" He joked. The captain guffawed and slapped his knee.
"Good one," he admitted, though Thomas was still unsettled by the sight of his alter ego. They arrived before Alison and the others, so Thomas stuck like a puppy to the captain, following him to the gas station across the street from the bar.
He watched awkwardly as the captain asked for a pack of cigarettes and payed the man at the counter. When they got outside, he lit one up and inhaled deeply.
"Man, I missed smoking," he sighed, blowing out a puff of smoke. Thomas coughed and looked at him curiously.
"You really are a different person, aren't you?" The captain's brow furrowed and he took another puff.
He was silent for a moment, his eyes shone with unshed tears and Thomas regretted asking him anything in the first place.
"I hate that house, and I'm glad to be gone for a while..." he finally admitted quietly.
"Why do you hate it so-"
"Because I killed myself and died in the back garden..." the captain snapped, his gaze faraway.
Thomas stood shocked. He wasn't expecting that answer.
"I had gotten a letter that day...I assumed it was from my daughter..." he smiled smally at the ground as he spoke.
"A daughter? I didn't know-"
"I know you didn't know, I never told anyone! Despite popular opinion, I had a wife, actually..." he swallowed and shook as he puffed his cigarette. "We...didn't get along. Our marriage was a spur-of-the-moment thing...And it got worse and worse as time went on...Anyway, my daughter, Rosie...She was the greatest thing in my life."
Thomas saw his friend's sad smile and realized he'd never heard him speak so fondly of anyone before.
"The letter that arrived that day was from..." He swallowed. "From my wife, instead of Rosie. I-I was so confused, but I opened it anyway...It told me my wife was sick. Dying. And Rosie. She-" he puffed his cigarette frantically. "They told me Rosie passed away a few months earlier."
Thomas placed a hand on his stomach, the phantom pain coming back to pierce him.
"She was seven years old." The captain dropped his fag, crushing it with his heel and blowing a smoke ring. "I had no wish to see Beatrice after that, so I tipped back a bottle of pills and collapsed in the garden." Thomas felt shaky as he stopped talking.
"I'm...so sorry, Cap..." he muttered, his heart heavy at the story. The captain shrugged.
"I've never told anyone that," he said, chuckling sadly. "Thanks for listening, Thorne." He clapped the poet on the back.
"I can see why you want to get out," he finally said, rubbing the back of his own neck. The captain gave him a sideways glance.
"Indeed." He looked up and grinned. "And it looks like Alison's here. Shall we join them?"
Thomas nodded, feeling himself blush as Alison waved to them. The captain waved back with a cheeky grin, and Thomas rolled his eyes, following him across the street and into the pub.
Thomas clung to Alison's side, feeling like a scared puppy lost in a city. The bar was crowded and loud, and Thomas felt less bold than ever before.
Alison sat everyone down with drinks and snacks and went off to mingle with Mike, Robin and Sylvia. The captain kept Julian in check, not letting mingle with the women just yet. Instead, the two downed shots and became quickly drunk.
Thomas decided to see what Alison was up to, and snatched a glass of whisky as he walked through the bar. He would rather have had a glass of wine, but wasn't about to be picky. He spotted Alison and Sylvia laughing and singing on a small stage, each holding a microphone. He waited until they were finished, and approached Alison.
"Alison," he said, wringing his hands. "What were you doing up there? Theater?"
Alison laughed, sending shivers through Thomas. He looked at his feet.
"No, Tommy, it was karaoke," she slurred, clearly drunk. Sylvia was smiling smally, her cheeks red from alcohol. He wondered if she was mildly allergic.
"I can't drink anymore," she explained as she caught him staring at her. "I'm the designated driver." He stared at the two of them for a moment longer, awkwardly, until Sylvia bounced on her toes and said, "Wanna go up and sing somefin' with me?"
Thomas stammered as she grabbed his hand and dragged him up on stage. Alison laughed and shot him a thumbs up.
"What song?" Sylvia began scrolling through the machine list of songs, and Thomas pointed at one, a slight smile on his lips. It was one of his new favorites. Alison had shown it to him.
"Really?" She looked at him sideways. "It's an oldie..."
Thomas nodded. She pressed the button and handed him the microphone. He held it, suddenly nervous, though almost no one in the crowd was paying any attention, even when the music started. Sylvia followed his lead, singing along with him.
He began singing, singing what he felt for Alison. For Isabelle, long gone. "I wanna hold your hand", by the Beatles. He'd gotten very attached to some of their music since Alison first moved into Button House.
As he sang, he felt his thoughts drift away. All that mattered was the music. He didn't notice until he glanced at her that Sylvia stopped singing to gape at him. He shot her a confused look and his voice wavered. She shook her head and mouthed, "Keep going".
So he did. He sang until the end of the song, his voice bouncing off the walls and back to him through the crowd. He stopped and panted, looking out at the crowd. They were cheering. Some stood to clap for him, only a few were still too drunk to pay any attention to him, but he didnt care. He felt his heart flutter as he blushed and nodded to the crowd.
"Thank you," he whispered into the microphone, and as the crowd calmed, he stepped off the stage and into the throng of people.
"That was really good," Sylvia gasped as she followed him down. "Where did you learn to sing like that?" Thomas shrugged, chuckling nervously.
"I-I've always liked singing, I just...chose poetry, I suppose..." he said, suddenly embarrassed. She squeezed him and went to find Alison.
Thomas sat at the bar, waving his hand to the bartender.
"What would you like?" She walked over, grinning at him. He stammered for a moment.
"Um...a whisky, I suppose."
"Really? You look like a wine guy to me."
Thomas sighed in relief. "I am," he chuckled. She nodded, pouring a glass and handing it to him.
"That was some good singing," she said, dipping her head and pulling her dark hair into a ponytail. Thomas blushed.
"Ah-Thank you..." he said, sipping the wine as she glanced at him again.
"We usually just get drunk couples up there to sing."
"Oh-no-she, uh, she wasn't-we're not a couple...She's-my friend..."
"Oh, my mistake," she smiled smally at him.
He blushed, enjoying the taste of fresh wine, and the company of other people. No matter how awkward he may have been around them.
He glanced back up and blushed to see the bartender staring at him. She jumped slightly, nearly dropping her tray of glasses and busied herself with drinks.
He smiled to himself, knowing he just caught her. He wondered for a moment if Alison felt that when she caught him looking at her.
Or even Isabelle.
He shook his head and chugged the rest of his wine. If the captain could get drunk, so could he. He wiped his mouth with his hand and waved down another waitress as he walked back to Julian's table.
"A couple shots, please," he whispered to her, his heart pounding with anticipation of drinking hard liquor for the first time. He had only ever drunk wine, and had only gotten drunk once. He didn't remember any of it, and he was glad. That night had been the night his best friend went missing. No one knew where he had gone, he just...disappered. He shook his head again, trying to dislodge the painful memory that was only a fuzzy blur in his mind.
He spotted Julian and dashed to him as if he was an oasis. He was whispering in a woman's ear who was leaning against him, giggling. Thomas watched as her face went from happy, to confused, to shocked, and finally outraged. She sat up and smacked him, marching off. Julian sighed and lolled his head towards Thomas. Thomas tried to hide his smile.
"Laugh it up, Thorne," he sighed, rubbing his face in annoyance. "That's happened three times now." Thomas collapsed next to him, scanning the room for the captain.
"Where'd the cap go?" He asked, nodding a thanks to the waitress as she dropped off his shots. He felt shaky as he picked one up and peered at it. Julian shot him a look.
"What? You gonna give it a kiss first?" He stuck his tongue out drunkenly. Thomas shook his head, embarrassed.
"I-I've never...had shots before..." he bowed his head and glanced up as Julian chuckled.
"Ah. I see," he grinned at him. "It's easy, I'll show you." He reached over, snatching it from Thomas's hand and waving a waitress over.
"Keep 'em coming," he said with a wink. She rolled her eyes and walked away. Julian demonstrated downing a shot by tipping his head back quickly and slamming the glass back down on the table. He winced before coughing into his elbow and squinting at Thomas.
"See? Easy." He nodded to the other ones. Thomas hesitated before grabbing one and downing it. It burned his throat and his stomach and he coughed furiously. His face flushed and he felt the world around him tip and blur slightly. It took a moment for him to feel the warmth spread from his face to his toes, and he giggled.
"Oh great, you're a giggly drunk," Julian sighed heavily. He took a double-take as the captain sauntered up, running a hand through his hair.
"I'm bored," he whined. Thomas tipped back another shot and Julian raised his eyebrows at him, smirking.
"Well, we don't care," The MP said, crossing his arms and leaning back. Thomas giggled again.
"We don't?" He said, leaning across the table. Julian scoffed at him and leaned away.
"Don't tell me you're ALREADY drunk? Sheesh..." he rolled his eyes.
"I'M NOT-" Thomas started, then hiccupped. "Okay, maybe I am. Wow." He rubbed his eyes, his head spinning.
The captain scoffed. "Fine. I'm going to smoke a fag," he sighed, stumbling towards the door. He nodded to a group of younger folks on the way out, and tried to ignore their whispers.
"What're you doin' here, grandpa?" One of them sneered, his arm around a giggling girl. Basil clenched his fists and tried to stamp down his fiery instinct to haul off and hit someone. He turned slightly.
"Shouldn't your mother be tucking you in by now?" He raised his eyebrows, knowing that he'd won. The boy shoved the girl off of his arm and stepped forward.
"You want some, old man?"
The captain raised his chin. "Bring it."