I am the Walrus, goo goo ga joob

[make_it_better]

The last twenty-four hours were a psychedelic blur. Jude vaguely remembered the party at Dr. Robert's agent's loft, drinking the pink punch that had started all of this, and listening to the man--sing? He was pretty sure there'd been singing and a lot of nonsense, but at the time it had all seemed to make sense. He remembered taking Lucy into one of the bedrooms, and that had been transcendental, but the decision to join Dr. Robert on his road trip...that part he didn't remember as well. It had seemed like a grand idea, and so they'd all gone, he and Max and Lucy and Sadie and JoJo, and it had been an extension of the party, laughing and music and colors and sounds and sensations.

Night had turned to day, and the bus had kept on driving. He remembered going out onto the top as it sped down the road, Lucy held against him as they reveled in the rush of wind past them. And now...where were they now? He still wasn't entirely down from the trip, but he'd sobered up enough to at least realize the bus had come to a stop. He smiled at Lucy without a word and carefully got to his feet, ready to find out where they were now.

Descending the steps of the bus, he blinked when the grassy field he'd seen through the windows was no longer there. Now it was a busy train station, and the bus had become a train. His friends had disappeared, as well, and he smiled and shook his head. Right, so he wasn't quite done tripping yet, it seemed. "That was some punch," he laughingly told a stranger as they moved past, giving him a suspicious look. He supposed they'd just have to take his word for it. Now he just needed to find the others again. He was sure he would, sooner or later. It was fine, everything was more than fine. I am me as you are he as you are me as we are all together, after all.

Comments

[silverhammer]

A couple of days ago, Max got the call that he'd been fired. It's not that Max hasn't been expecting it— his boss hated him from day one and has been trying to push him out for months now— but he's still not particularly happy about it.

He hasn't even been thinking about what to do next, instead trying to figure out how to do anything with his arm fucked up how it is. There's a cut healing on his forehead and there's no bandage on it anymore, but he'll have the cast and sling for something like six or seven weeks. Even if he hadn't been fired, he wouldn't be able to work for at least a few months anyway, so he's trying not to worry about it too much.

Though, he feels like Lucy's been treating him like an invalid since the crash, and he's probably imagining it, but it seems like Brian's being weird about it too. It's all too weird for him, so he's been trying to get some time away. There's this place near the train station, this hole in the wall pizza place, and he figures if anything's going to make everything start seeming normal again, it's grabbing a slice at a place he used to pop into every once in a while before trying to pick up a nearby fare.

If nothing else, he should probably tell a couple of the regulars who work there that he's probably not going to be around much anymore.

Except he's turning a corner and there's a familiar silhouette. A shaggy mop of dark hair, that familiar almost-hunch to his shoulders... these days, Max is more convinced than ever that he's completely lost it, but if this is the real thing, he'd fucking kick himself for not saying anything.

"Jude?" Max says to himself, unsure, and then, louder, "Hey! Jude!"

[make_it_better]

When Jude opened his eyes the next morning, he had no idea where he was.

At least for a few moments, before hazy memories of yesterday (and a hangover) came rushing in. He sat up from the sofa he'd passed out on with a low groan, rubbing his eyes. He'd gone straight from being high to being drunk, and with what he remembered Max telling him, that was probably best. In fact, he was none too sure he didn't want to promptly return to one or the other of those altered states, despite his head throbbing and stomach flipping at the thought.

He was in some strange city he'd never heard of, no idea how he'd got here, and somehow Max had been to Vietnam and back, but he didn't remember any of it? That was the part that made his head pound that much harder, trying to figure out how that was even possible.

He sighed and gave up on making any sense of it for the moment, collapsing back onto the sofa and staring at the ceiling. At least Max and Lucy were here. He had that much and he clung to it.