Life Line

Home : Stories by Catw00man/Stories by Zippit : MBN Universe : Life Line

Summary: He’s drowning all alone...or is he?

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: mbn@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
SERIES/SETTING: MBN Universe
CHARACTERS: Jeff Gordon, Casey Mears, Jeff POV
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #41 (#16 for me) - Asylum
COMPLETED: May 5, 2007
WORDS: 2,789
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here’s another look into the twisted world of the MBN Jeffy. Poor boy. I’ve missed him. And don’t worry, things will start to make a lot more sense pretty soon. This takes place the day after the Talladega race where Jeff and Jimmie were both wrecked.
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North Carolina Condo: October 3rd, 2005

The nightmares are coming more frequently now, almost every time I close my eyes. 

Voices haunt me with their screams, and cold, blue eyes freeze me with the terror of memories I can’t face.  It’s becoming more and more real…and before long I’m afraid I won’t be able to block them out when I’m awake.  As it is, I’m surprised no one heard me screaming from my coach Saturday night in Talladega when I was lost to yet another all too vivid memory.  But then again…maybe they did hear and just didn’t do anything. 

No one ever does anything.  In ten years no one ever did a god damned thi--

No. Can’t go there.

Reach over to the end table to pick up my tall glass of Crown, but instead end up knocking over a new bottle of pills.  It’s the refill from my brush with the wall yesterday.  I wasn’t hurt.  But a call to the team doc about post race soreness earned me another refill and the chance to stock up my private pharmacy.  Pick up the bottle and shake a few Vicodin into my hand.  I don’t race for almost a week.  Maybe I can get a few nights sleep between now and then.  Toss the pills into my mouth and wash them down with the ice chilled whiskey.  Now I just need to wait for the liquor and pills to work their magic and drown out the screams in my head.

Light a cigarette from the pack at my side and then tilt my head back against the couch and close my eyes.  I need to pull myself together…but how?   I swear in silent moments like this, sitting alone in the dark, I can feel my mind unraveling.  Things I used to be able to block out, to ignore, are pressing in more and more.  I thought I was past this, that he couldn’t hurt me anymore.  But now I feel like my sanity is slipping through my hands.

How much longer can I hold on?  How long until I’m completely cracked and locked away in an asylum with only me and one other really knowing why?  How long--

Buzzing.  Vibrating.  Flashes in the dark.

It’s my cell phone on the coffee table, blinking and buzzing in front of me and I don’t want to answer.  I just want to be alone.  But it could be Rick.  It could be Robbie or Stevie.  And if I don’t answer…it could bring people to my door, coming to check on me.  And I don’t need that.

Lean forward and reach for my phone as I try to make room in the over flowing ashtray for my burning cigarette.  Flip open the phone without looking and even I can hear the gravely sound in my voice, rough from the cigarettes and alcohol.  “Hello….”

“Jeff?  Is that you?”

I guess I sound worse than I thought.  Pull the phone from my ear and clear my throat as I turn to read the display on the phone.  Mears.  Why is he calling?  I haven’t heard from him in weeks, maybe longer.  Is he looking for a favor or maybe to pull out the bikes?  Either way I’m not in the mood.  Clear my throat again and sit up a bit straighter.  I need to play the game and see what he wants.  Then maybe I can be left alone…with the voices in my head.
 
“Yeah Mears, it’s me.  What’cha need?”  I think my voice sounds a little more like myself.  I hope it does.  Maybe he’ll think I just woke up or something.  Reach for my burning cigarette and take a drag.  I just need to hold it together to find out what he wants.  Just a little longer.

“Just calling to see how you are.  Kinda realized I haven’t been around much these days and wanted to get back in touch with you, see how things are, how things have been….”

He sounds a little wary and I can only imagine why.  Run my hand over my face.  Has he been out of touch?  I’ve been too lost in my world disintegrating around me to notice.  The boys, my team and crew chief swap, missing The Chase…the nightmares, needless to say Mears wasn’t exactly on the top of my list.  So…why is he calling?

“No need to feel guilty on my account, Mears.  You’ve always been…”  What?  I think back over the last few years, over the twisted mess with Jimmie and the rest.  Why am I only now realizing that since Jimmie introduced us he’s always been, “…a friend.”

And that’s just it.  He really has been one of the only real friends I’ve had.  Granted we never did that much together but…he would go riding with me, even after I lost Jimmie, which was something I never expected.  I always assumed that if I lost Jimmie I’d lose him too since they were such good friends.  But for some reason…he stuck around. 

I never really had--or allowed myself--much time for friends.  Not now, and not when I was growing up either.  John always told me that other drivers weren’t friends, they were the competition and it wouldn’t do to get too close.  I got too close to Jimmie and any idiot can see how well that played out.  I’ve been shit on the track since.  Now I can’t figure out why Casey would be ca--

“How are you, Jeff?  Everything going ok for you?”

Soft voice in my ear and it pulls me out of my thoughts.  Ok?  Is he kidding me?  How could things possibly be ok?  I’m a twisted, sadistic freak who preys upon my teammates.  My career is falling into shambles around me.  I thought he was my friend.  Is he calling to torment me?  Reach for my glass and my eyes linger over the pill bottle next to me, and I laugh bitterly.  Yeah, I’m great.  The boys are both too scared to come near me, not that I’d let them anyway.  I can’t hurt anyone if they aren’t here. 

“Fine.  Just great,” Swirl the ice around in my glass and then take a quick drink. “Little quiet without the boys around but…you know…it’s all good.”  He’s probably going to hang up, but why should I care if he’s just calling to torture me?  “You checking up on me, Mears?” At his initial silence I feel a little regret because part of me doesn’t want him to hang up.  Shake my head and push that thought from my head.  It’s for the best.  I’m better off alone.

“No Jeff, I’m trying to be the friend I haven’t been.”  His voice is still soft and…remorseful?  He doesn’t owe me anything.  But then his tone changes again to one a little more upbeat.  “That’s a pretty cool deal you guys have going with that Driver Development Program...how’s that going?”

Is he kidding me?  What game is he playing?  Was that a veiled dig at my blatant manipulation of kids I had no business being with?  Or maybe he really hasn’t heard I’ve all but dismantled the whole thing.  “It isn’t. Not anymore.”  No, I took care of that.  I couldn’t stand the accusing looks laced with fear every time they walked into the shop.  There was too much tension and even if Rick wasn’t completely aware of why, he could see it.  It didn’t take much urging to get the entire thing, and the boys, scrapped…especially since we didn’t have Ricky to head up the program anymore. 

“Turns out we don’t have the best...mentoring program after all.”  No, Jeff Gordon’s twisted mentoring experience for young boys is officially closed.  I just…I can’t take any more chances.  I can’t lose control again.

“Oh…” replies the soft voice on the phone and now I’m certain he didn’t know.  “I thought it wasn’t going that bad.  That’s a shame.”

A shame?  He has no idea.  Reach for my cigarette only to find it’s burned out so I start to light another when I hear him mumble something about his ragdoll cat.  Wasn’t going bad?  Is he kidding me?  The boys were nothing less than shit-tastic on the track.  But what can you expect from them after what I put them through?

“Bad?” Flip the cigarette between my fingers and pick up my lighter. “No, it wasn’t bad.  Let’s just say I decided those boys were better off…elsewhere.”  Lean forward to light my cigarette, ignoring the slight tremor in my hand, and take a long slow drag as it all plays before my eyes again.  “That’s why I got rid of the boys.  Less pain all the way around.” 

Less pain maybe if they can get over the countless manipulations and twisted things I made them do.  Blake never got over me forcing him to be with Boston.  Boston…well, he couldn’t help it that his eyes weren’t the right shade of brown.  To be honest…I hope I never see either one of them again.

Sudden way too cheerful voice in my ear--have I ever sounded that way? “So...how are things going otherwise?  Gone on any good bike rides of late?  Found any hidden gems that you’d recommend?”

Is that all he’s worried about?  Fun and games?  Does he really think I have nothing better to do with my time then cruise around and find new places to hang out?  Take a long drag from my cigarette before I snuff it out then reach for my glass.  I’ve about had it with this conversation and see no reason to pretend any different.

 “Season’s in the shitter.  Jimmie’s our only fucking hope for a championship, and he couldn’t survive ‘Dega any better than me,” Do I have to spell it all out for him?  “No, no I’m afraid I haven’t had much time for rides lately…haven’t  been up for it.”  I down the rest of my glass and hear the ice shift as I set it back on the end table.  Who does he think he is?  Why is he trying to rub my fa--

“Sorry, Jeff.  Wasn’t trying to make light of things….”  His voice is even, nearly emotionless.  God, I really am an ass.  The only person who’s even made an attempt to be a friend and I treat him like shit.  “I just thought maybe you’d rather talk about something you enjoy, something that at least used to make you smile. That’s all.”

What is wrong with me?  Casey’s never been that superficial and I know it.  Hell, he’s one of the most down to earth guys I’ve ever known, and…he’s always seen me for me.  Now for some reason he’s trying to be nice, hell, trying to make me smile and I’m treating him like shit.  I swear, I shouldn’t even be allowed to interact with people.

“I appreciate the offer, Case.  I really do but…I don’t have the right to smile.”  Sigh softly then mumble to myself.  “Not anymore,” and not ever again.  Someone who’s done as much damage as I have doesn’t deserve to be happy…no matter what reasons I may have.  Nothing can excuse what I’ve done…what I’ve become.

“Everyone has the right to smile, Jeff,” he says and in this moment he sounds so young, so innocent.  Was I ever that naïve?  “I know sometimes it may not feel that way...but that’s when you lean on your friends.” 

Friends.  I wonder if he knows he’s probably the only one I’ve got left.  No one in the shop can look me in the eye anymore.  I can’t remember the last time I talked to Junior.  Everyone else I haven’t directly hurt cares about someone I did.  It’s a vicious circle of my own making that leaves me permanently on the outside.

“And I am your friend.” He’s probably the only person left in the garage who would still say that. I don’t even know why he’d bother. “I know I haven’t been around, but I’m here now.”

I don’t deserve a friend like him.

Reach for my glass, but when I see it’s empty, I pick up the half full bottle of Crown instead.  My hand shakes and I can barely hold on to the large bottle as the pills I took earlier take effect.  “N-no, no you don’t understand.” Try to will my hand steady but the whiskey still sloshes out of the glass and onto the end table.  “It’s not you.  Never’s been you.”  I can’t let him think it’s his fault.  None of this has been his fault.  It’s not like he could’ve helped.  He wasn’t even around then….

“It’s them.  It’s them and what I did.” I tell him in a rush, trying to make him understand.  “It’s him.” I whisper to myself and take a long drink.  The whiskey splashes again.  My hand’s so unsteady.  Did I say too much?  Why does it feel like everything’s spinning?

“Regardless, Jeff...just know that I’m here for you no matter what.  Okay?”

Words promise so much, but he doesn’t know.  He doesn’t know what he’d be in for.  Why’s he offering?  Why does he even care?  Does he have any clue how close I am to cracking up?  Can he tell?  Or does he actually give a shit…about me?  I can’t worry him too much.  Have to get the panic out of my voice.  I have to be me, The Champion, the one who’s fazed by nothing.  Have to pull myself together one more time.

“Sure, ok.  I’ll remember.” Take a breath and try to keep my voice even.  “But, I’ll be fine.  I’m always fine.”  I’ve survived this long, right?  Ten years of hell and I’m still here.  Close my eyes and force the memories back.  “It’s the others you should be worried about…not me.”  No one needs to worry about me.

“Maybe so, Jeff...but you’re the one I’m talking to now.  So if you need someone to lean on, to talk to you, you dial my number, okay?”

Why?  Why is he doing this?  Run my hand over my face because I really think there’s genuine concern in his voice even though I don’t understand it.  What could I have possibly done to get him on my side?  Shake my head and the room spins.  I-I can’t let him be concerned.  I can’t make him worry.  If he does…he could send someone.  Can’t let him do that.  Take a long, slow, shaky breath and try to at least sound more together than I am.

“I will.  I will, Case.  Just know that goes both ways, ok?  If you ever need an ear…” Shit.  Do I really want to make this promise when I’m not sure if I’m even capable of being there for anyone?  It doesn’t matter.  It’s the truth, or at least…I want it to be.  “…you’ve got my number.” And I mean it.  I really do mean it.

“Thanks, Jeff...I appreciate that.” Is that a smile in his voice or is he just patronizing me? I can’t even tell.  I think I hear him add, “More than you realize,” but with as much as my head is spinning I can’t be sure.  Is something wrong with him?  I should pay more fucking attention.  He’s probably the only friend I’ve got and I need to do whatever I can to make sure I don’t lose him too.

“I hate to cut out on you, Jeff, but…” he pauses and I would be surprised if he’s just looking for any excuse to hang up.  But somewhere deep inside…I don’t think he is.  He does seem to care, even though I don’t know why.  “…my, mother, is here.  I need to go see what she wants.  But I’ll talk with you later, okay?  If nothing else maybe we can catch up in Kansas?”

I hear a slight hesitation in his voice and I don’t think he’s being completely honest.  But for that matter…neither am I.  We’re all allowed our little secrets.  I guess Mears is no different.  Part of me wishes he didn’t have to hang up.  But as the room spins again it’s probably for the best.

“Sounds good, Mears.  Have a good trip out.  I’ll…be around.” The phone slips out of my hand and I don’t even know if it hung up.  Blink a few times and the room dips and sways before my eyes…or is that me?

My head thuds against a cushion.  Did I fall?  Room spins faster and I close my eyes, slowly stretching out on the couch.  Maybe I took too many pills…or maybe not enough.  I just want to sleep.  Sleep and not dream.

Maybe tonight….

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Catw00man & Zippit - mbn@cryptoffic.com