Title: The Mirror Dream Confusion
Summary: It bothers him more than he would have thought, and much more than he let on to Wendy. Post-ep to 1x12 "The Palindrome Reversal Palindrome." Spoilers for the whole series (to be safe).
Words: 1,159
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Javi and ABC Family.
Notes: There are no spoilers, but there are some vague references to The Collected Series Indispensability. And some stuff I just made up. :D



Before he takes her home, she insists on a trip back to Jolly Fats. She wants to tell him everything before she forgets the little details: the aerosolized soup and the pledge and the way The Other Lacey still went all gooey over The Other Him. (He can't stop the little smile that flashes across his face when she tells him that.) He's delighted to note that the Real Time Situation Recording Archive was at work despite the alternate dimension and he downloads the file from her Middlewatch before shuffling her off to the garage.

Ida has already cataloged the footage by the time he returns. He pulls his flask of milk from a hidden jacket pocket and takes a swig before calling up the video. He knows what he's going to see - she was impressively descriptive as she recounted her time in the quantum singularity - but it's still a bit of a shock. It bothers him more than he would have thought, and much more than he let on to Wendy. To see her like that, and Lacey, and Mr. Noser, and poor Tyler (and even though he's not really dead, the Middleman can't help but cringe at the high Middleboy mortality rate), and even himself, filled with greed and coffee and booze and apathy.

Ida shuts off the power without warning when he's scrolling through the video for a third time that night. As she powers herself down for a hard reboot, her slow, deepening voice commands him to "get some shut-eye, Junior."

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

He wakes up in a warehouse. He's never been there, but he remembers it anyway.

There are two Wendys.

He blinks and there are still two.

One is dressed like His Wendy, with the vest and the tie and the gun on her hip. The second is dressed like the Other Wendy (he doesn't like to think of her as Evil Wendy because she's still Wendy and there has to be some good in there, right?) with the black jacket and the wire-frame glasses. He raises his gun but he's not sure who to point it at. They're both shouting at him: "Boss! Whoa, Boss, chill. C'mon, it's me!"

He blinks again. Why won't one of them go away?

His gun is trained on Other Wendy now. He feels like his brain isn't working quite right; all he's thinking is Vest = good / Black jacket = bad. But then he remembers that His Wendy walked out of the quantum singularity in that same black jacket and wire frames and he is so very confused.

"What's my name?" He shouts. The Wendys look at each other for a silent moment.

"I dunno, but it's the same as your father's," His Wendy replies and before her mouth is closed Other Wendy has taken one between the eyes.

He blinks again. There is still only one Wendy standing. Good.

His Wendy walks over to the Other Wendy, takes the glasses off of the corpse, and puts them on. She smiles: "You know that first shot didn't kill the Middleboy? What was his name? Tucker or Tyler or something? It hit his shoulder; took so long to bleed out I had time to torture him for some intel first." There's a gun in her hands now; he's not sure where it came from. "The Middleboy told me about your name before kicked it."

He wakes in his bed back at HQ, Evil Wendy's laughter still ringing in his ears.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

He wakes up on the football field of the Ann Arbor High School Fighting Minutemen.

Varsity Fanclub is huddled down at the far end of the field, waiting for something. There's a whistle in his hands. He blows it and winces at the shrill sound. Ida rushes forward and kicks Interrodroid 8000's head down the field and the disgraced Clotharian dictators go running after it. An armless Young Noser cheers from the sidelines.

This is a dream, he thinks and is abruptly pulled from it. He remembers the score (what game were they playing?) was 36 to 12. He hopes Ida was winning.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

He wakes up in the changing room.

Nothing it out of place; his shirts are starched, Wendy's boots are lined up in the bottom of her locker. His gut tells him something isn't right, though. Moscow Rule #3.

Then he looks in the mirror and his hair is slicked back and his Eisenhower jacket is buttoned up all tight but one eye is covered by an angry black patch and there's a silver flask (somehow he knows it's not filled with milk) tucked into his belt. And he's confused. He can't figure out if the man looking back at him is the Man He Is or The Other Him, or maybe some combination of the two that uncomfortably reminds him of the Man He Used To Be.

"Pull it together, Bear," he mumbles. And then he's startled; it's been years since he's even thought about - let alone used - his mother's childhood nickname for him.

And he can feel his past rising like the bile in his throat, but he pushes it down and leans hard against the lockers. He feels dizzy.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Wendy wakes him up with a punch to the shoulder and a "Yo, Boss, you're twitching like crazy."

He's in his bed, sheets tangled around his waist. Wendy squints at him - he's sure the lack of good sleep has left his eyes dark and swollen - but she shrugs a little and holds out a coffee cup. "Don't give me that look," she says. "It's just milk." He nods his thanks. "I can't believe you live here. You weren't downstairs when I got in so Ida sent me up." He nods again; she hasn't said anything yet that warrants a verbal response and he knows his silence makes her antsy. Maybe she'll get around to her point sooner this way.

Wendy sits on the floor Indian style next to his bed. "Okay, look, you were kinda weird in the car and at my loft and you're not at work on time and you haven't said a word and it's getting weird right now, too, so if something's bugging you, O Woman Friend of Mine, you need to spit it out."

"Bad dreams," he shrugs. "Due, in part, to your time in the quantum singularity."

"You worry too easily," she says and takes his milk from him. "C'mon, Ida said something about a redball. Let's tie everything up all neat so you can get some sleep." He swings his feet over the side of the bed, runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm really awake this time?" He asks and regrets it immediately. He sounds young enough to be the Boy Scout she teases him of being. Wendy leans forward and pinches his leg. "Dagnabbit, Dubbie!"

"See? You're awake. Now up and at'em."

And he believes her. He is awake.