HALCYON

Hal didn't quite understand what happened on nights like these. He felt his hair ride up his spine and then, nothing. It'd been happening since he was about thirteen. Now, at twenty-six, he was waking up in someone else's home. He sprawled out, looking at his paws. Wait, paws?

He jumped up, his claws scratching against the linoleum floor. Was it linoleum? He started licking the floor. Nope, not linoleum. Wait, what's wrong with me? His tail wagged nervously back and forth as he sniffed around the foreign home. It smelled oddly familiar though...

Standing on his back legs, he now towered over the incoming threat. His hackles raised again from his head down to his tail. He looked down at his massive paws, remembering who he was again. A beast. He growled at the girl, fangs dripping with viscous drool. A scar across his cheek highlighted his clouded eye. Next to the cloudy one was a bright yellow one, piercing through at the woman. He knew it was her house, but she had a god damned gun pointed at him!

What did she call him? He extended his nose, sniffing in her direction. Yes, she was quite familiar. He whimpered, unsure of how to react. He backed up into a corner and growled again at the girl, feeling intimidated in her domain.

He growled one more time before snatching up a bag of bread in his paws. He squeezed past the girl once she put her gun down and made his way for the window. In one fell swoop, he made it out of her shoddy apartment and onto the cold, midnight grass. He howled on his way home.

When he awoke, he was not so happy. Naked, again, a bag of half eaten bread and a bed full of crumbs, again. He sighed into his pillow. "Ugh. Work."

It was strange, ever since he'd started sleepwalking, Hal never felt rested. He stood in the shower, but he didn't feel like he was in his body. Sure, he scrubbed, but this was just muscle memory. Inside his head, all he could think of was this voice that seemed to call out to him. It said his name. It sounded like someone he knew but he couldn't place it.

It was 3:00 PM and he was actually on time for work today. Bags under his eyes, yesterday's jeans, but no frown on his face today. He felt okay for once. Despite the gurgling stomach. He wasn't sure how he managed to down so much food, but working at a diner seemed to spoil him. He didn't make much, but his apartment wasn't worth a dime anyways. As long as he could eat, he was more than happy.

As he walked in, his boss tapped him on the shoulder. "Ey Hal, don't go so heavy on the drinks tonight. I heard you stumbled out last night." Jefe rubbed his back and continued towards the kitchen. "You're on barfront tables. Be good or be careful!" His voice echoed throughout the kitchen's clamor.

Hal took his notepad from the counter and made his way past the kitchen. There was a voice in his head, and it was saying his name. He couldn't quite place where it was coming from. "Long night buddy?" One of the cooks blurted out over the sizzling of stoves and fryers. "Ah, you could say that." He tried to force a chuckle. Then he saw her, the girl who always got coffee in the corner. And for the life of him, he couldn't remember her name. He swallowed hard, and walked up to her table. He brushed his hair back from his face and made sure to tuck in his shirt before approaching her.

"You need some coffee, sweetie?" He smiled, his normal jagged way.

Hal let out his hyena laugh, as the cooks liked to call it. It didn't sound like a hyena, but Hal reminded them of one because of his dingy looks and late night habits. Which, he wasn't too sure he even had. When she said his name, it rang in his head a couple extra times. He shook it before he could respond. "That it is. I'm shitty with names." He rubbed the back of his neck, blushing lightly.

"I'll go grab your coffee after you remind me what to call you." he huffed with a guilty smile. Holding up his pen and paper, Hal wrote down his number. He felt compelled to give it to her once he brought back her coffee. He wasn't sure why, but something about her voice felt strangely familiar and comforting. And usually, he just followed his gut.

"Ash! That's right! I knew that." He smiled, backing up towards the kitchen now. The smile didn't leave his face. She was a grungy girl which he felt strangely drawn to. He was never the type to court model-esque women or people out of his league. Most of the time they were boring and shallow. Besides, he'd be waiting his whole life for a ten. He was more like a four or five. He was lanky, and scarred. At least he was tall.

He grabbed a clean white cup and a pitcher with fresh coffee. One of the cooks whistled at Hal from behind the counter. He wiggled his eyebrows when Hal made eye contact with him. He had to laugh it off, used to the ongoing banter.

When he got back to Ash's table, he put the cup down and then the pitcher. And then, he put down the ticket paper with his number on it. His name was scrawled on top with a simple "hit me" under his number. "Talk to you later?" He grinned, his missing tooth only slightly unflattering. "Let me know when you need a refill." He winked and began waiting the other few tables he was assigned to.

He stroked back his long, grey hair, a smile permanently attached to his face. "Yeah! I'd love to." He chuckled, surprised with her fast response. To be honest, he wasn't sure if the girl was even into dudes. The night went quickly, as it always did. At his 10 pm lunch break, he was happy to see his punk rock vixen still at her seat. He swaggered over and slid down on the opposite side of her booth.

"Do you want something - other than coffee? Its on me." He grinned, looking through the menu for a refresher. He was going to get himself a nice slice of cherry pie. He poured himself a cup of coffee from the recently replaced pitcher.

He was surprised to see how much Ash had already drank from the pitcher. He filled his own mug. "I'm gettin' the cherry pie. Its real good here. And god damn, how much coffee do you drink girl?" He chuckled, shaking his head as he sat the pitcher down. He liked his coffee black, so took a slurp immediately after. After his lunch break, he only had two more hours before he could go home. Hopefully, he'd actually remember tonight.

Hal grinned watching Ash's caffeinated hands shake. "Yeah, I think this pie will do the trick." He wasn't all too surprised about her financial status. After all, he'd been serving her long enough that he knew she never ordered food. The coffee was less than a buck for endless refills. She was probably running the place dry. It couldn't be good for her. But what was these days? He stood up, slapped the table gently and said: "I'll be right back with our pie."

He walked away, trying to pin back his overgrown hair behind his ears. He came back to the booth with two slices, each spilling with cherry entrails. "You won't get any better than this." He slid Ash's plate in front of her, only to notice that the pitcher was empty again. So he chuckled and playfully shook it in front of her before refilling it. When he returned, all he had to say was: "Do you ever sleep?". It was strange to talk to a girl he liked so openly, but he figured now was the time. He was used to rejection, might as well be oneself in that case.

Though Hal knew all too well that the girl never ate here, he didn't feel the need to correct her. He'd heard some rumors about Ash, sure, but never that she was a witch. The worst he'd heard were highly sexual and he wasn't sure if he wanted to know if they were true or not. Most of the guys at Revelations were total scumbags anyways. So it was no surprise that he worked here. He did love to see her laugh and smile though. "Hell, I s'pose being called a witch is better than being called a drunk. I rarely touch the stuff!" He scoffed, looking over his shoulder at his busy working mates.

He began to dig into his pie, watching the cherry goop up on his fork. A streak of red dribbled down his chin as he dug in. "So good. 'Specially with this coffee." He smiled, tipping his mug as if to say bottoms up!

Hal was pleasantly surprised with the conversation he was having. He leaned back, listening to Ash lament. "I guess these days, its good to have thick skin." He looked away for a moment, ready to see how she'd react to his next comment. "Y'know. First time I met you, I thought you were a lesbian." He chuckled. "Still not sure, but I figured it was worth a shot. I never take someone by how they look. Met too many fake people who made you think they had the best lives in the world.... They were the saddest of all. I didn't get the whore vibe from you though." He grinned. It wasn't to say that he didn't think she was into some strange shit, he was almost sure of that. It was worth it to him to find out.

"Yeah. The pie's made by Mister Jacoby, the baker." He spoke with his mouth still full from a fork full of pie.

"What about you? What'd you think about me?" He wiped his mouth, then he sipped his coffee, and then he took another bite of his pie. He was already halfway done and it had hardly been a minute of conversation.

Hal smirked under Ash's comments. At least his instincts weren't too far off. He shrugged. After all, it didn't really matter. It was just nice to not feel judged by someone. Until she pointed out his scar. He growled. "Yeah, what of it?" He spat out. To be honest, he didn't even remember how he got the damned thing. Another one of his black out spells. He woke up one morning, in a haze as usual. His pillow was bloody. His face was wet, everything was blurry. He had to call a buddy to come stitch him up. Just ended up having to go to a hospital.

Down here, in the scrappers, hospitals didn't do much of anything. Maybe up in the Utopian city, he would've had his eye saved. Or maybe turned into a robot eye. But instead, he was given a psychiatric hold and a bad scar. His mum always told him that he sleepwalked. So he just assumed it was happening again.

Hal bit his lip. It seemed that he'd responded rather brashly. "No, no. I'm sorry. Its just that... I don't even remember how I got it..." he chuckled, realizing how silly the whole thing was. "I mean, I'd like to at least have a story behind it." he finished up his pie, noticing that it was almost time for him to get back to work. So he slurped down his coffee too.

Hal scoffed, feeling the heat rising in his face as he blushed. This might've been the first time he'd told someone about his blackouts. At least outside of his family. Even in the loony bin, he didn't like to talk about it. He nodded, surprised with how Ash was handling it. "Yeah, I suppose so." He chuckled. He'd like to think that his mysterious black outs made him sexier. In reality, they made him nervous and afraid. No matter how little he showed it. He was afraid that he wouldn't remember what he was doing, no matter how insignificant. Though it helped him value any times he did remember. Like when he was a kid and would play with his family dogs. There were three of them.

For some reason, looking up at Ash, he was reminded of that happiness. "Yeah, that'd be nice." He tried to hold back an over-excited smile. He stood up, picking up his empty plate and stacking Ash's on top. "Flag me down when you want a refill, in the meantime." He grinned and went off to finish his shift.

From that moment, his shift went by in a blur. Hal grabbed his hoodie from the employee area. He was moving with no conscious effort, in fact he was half asleep. This normally happened around midnight, and for some reason, progressively it would wax and wane with the moon's cycles. He wobbled back towards Ash's table. "Alright, let's go." He threw a thumb behind him, pointing towards the door. His eyes were droopy and exhausted.

Hal quirked his head, unsure what exactly Ash was saying. It all was pretty hazy. Something about rain? He looked outside the windows, covered in handprints and faceprints from an earlier customer's kid. It looked dark, but not rainy. He shook his head. "Nah, let's go. I want to hear your story." He grinned, pulling his jacket over his shoulders.

A poof of steam came off of his face as they walked outside. It was perfectly chilled. Hal huffed just to watch the steam come out as he wriggled the hood of his jacket over his head. "Last night?" He shrugged, unsure why this was a topic of intrigue. "I uh - I worked? Uhm... I know I woke up this morning with a bag of bread torn up on my chest." He chuckled.

"Don't remember how that happened. But I think I wake up like that every morning." He scratched the back of his neck, unsure if he was answering her questions appropriately. "I'm not really sure how often it happens." When his mom was around, she kept track and tried to help him stay on track. After she died, nobody was looking out for him. Not even himself.

Hal turned his head to Ash, a bit concerned about what might come out next. "Oh yeah?" He kicked a rock into the street after speaking. "I don't think I could find you crazy." He meant that he wasn't sure any of this was real anyways.