How's this for a Wet Dream? [Nightmare On Elm Street]

Chapter 17: Betrayal

I didn't have any time to recover before Phil was on his feet, pants up, hands on head and pacing in circles in front of me as I sat on the bed, "What the fuck, Frankie? What the fuck!!!"

I felt he should have been yelling...like he wanted to yell, but his voice was hushed though quick and shaky. He stopped for a moment to look at me, eyes full of confusion and...hurt? I only stared back, baffled by the situation myself and unable to form any words. He cut his gaze away again and kept pacing with hands grabbing his skull and furling his hair. I began to wonder if he was going to say something to his parents and the thought terrified me.

I got up from the bed, awkwardly pulling my jeans back into place and fastening them quickly before throwing up my hands at him in a placating gesture. Yet still I didn't know what to say. I only stood there, mouth agape, my palms beginning to sweat. This wasn't good... I was supposed to calm him down and get him to sleep, not rile him up! "Phil..." I began weakly.

"No, Frankie, go home!" he barked at me, stepping forward into a menacing pose, but the finger he pointed at me was shaking just like his voice.

"OK," I sighed, looking down to the ground, "Let me get my bag..." Where the fuck was Freddy when I needed him? I thought to myself as I walked between the bed and Phil, reaching where my bag was resting at the end of the football on the floor. But while I leaned down there...I noticed something laying just under the bed...a baseball bat. Glancing back at the boy behind me, I saw that he had stopped pacing and taken a stance where he deliberately faced away from me. He had one hand resting over his ear, the other folded under it and it looked like it was over his mouth.

Keeping my eyes on him, I reached and took hold of the bat. When I had a good grasp on its handle, I carefully pulled it out from under the bed frame and lifted it to my side. Swallowing hard, I took two gentle steps forward, readying to strike. But just felt myself cowering away, he turned around, hurt expression changing to shocked. He opened his mouth and I panicked, swinging the bat full force at his temple. The first hit seemed to daze him. He threw up an arm to grab the weapon, but missed his aim. His eyelids lowered and stretched open and lowered again. A soft noise started coming from his mouth and I struck again, hitting the same spot.

He fell back against the wall, obviously fighting to stand back up as he started to slide down it. So I stuck again. He fell to his knees. One more hit... And he dropped. His body landed with a this that I knew could be heard downstairs. Shit! I stared at the boy as he lie face first on the floor. Quickly, I stepped over and lifted his head. Fuck, he was bleeding. I was sure I heard someone calling. Dammit. Fuck!

I looked back at the bed. He wasn't too far, maybe I could... I stepped over him, placing one foot on either side of his lower back and knelt down to grab hold of his shoulders. No! His chest and shoulders from underneath his arms... I changed my hand placement. There, now if... He was heavy, but not as much as I thought he'd be. Lucky he wasn't a jock... Adrenaline was probably helping too... I managed to drag his body over to the side of the bed, but lifting it further... That would take more work. Shit!

"Kids? Are you alright in there?" I heard Mrs. Bryant's voice outside in the hallway.

Dammit! I dropped him onto the floor, quickly wiping the spot on his head where I had struck him. There was a soft knock on the door, immediately followed by Phil's mom opening it and poking her head in.

"Oh honey!" she exclaimed when she saw me standing over her unconscious son and hurried in. "What happened?"

"I-uh-he fell asleep a little while ago," I stuttered. "I guess the medicine hit him fast, but he fell out of bed and hit his head on the table..." I did my best to give a look of shock and concern to the woman.