By: NightCat

Disclaimer: Dr. Clayton Forrester and anything else MST3K related belongs to Best Brains Inc. Remus Lupin and anything else Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling. Subreality belongs to Kielle and the TTPCTS Club belongs to Bodger. Finally, I belong to myself, or one should hope so.


“And she completely forgot about me just when she was starting to really like me!” the fictive moaned before taking another sip of Guinness.

The other fictive shook his head. When he had stepped into the TTPCTS club he didn’t expect to see another of his Writer’s fictives drowning his sorrows in beer. Then again, before that moment Dr. Forrester had never actually met any of his Writer’s other fictives that weren’t from his universe. Still, he knew about the others, which was how he came to recognize the Remus Lupin fictive as one of his Writer’s own.

“Maybe she just got writer’s block and never got over it,” Clay suggested, trying feebly to comfort the depressed fictive. He himself was occasionally a victim of writer’s block, though in the end he manages to pester his Writer enough to force her back into writing.

Remus just gave a snort of humorless laughter and took another swing of his beer. He normally wasn’t so crude, but about three months in Shantytown had done a number on his usual quiet and gentle nature. “Yeah, and maybe she just found a new and ‘better’ fictive to take my place,” he said in a sarcastic tone.

Clayton looked at him sharply. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

The werewolf looked at him, a mixture of a sneer and sadness on his face. “Meaning that she’s put you guys on the ‘effing pedestal while the rest of us are wasting away in Shantytown, forgotten and fading away…” he trailed off, a haunted look coming over him.

Clayton shook his head and took the half empty glass bottle away from the other fictive. “I think you’ve had enough to drink Lupin,” he said to the fictive, trying his best to be the voice of reason. For Clay, that was quite a challenge.

“Oh shut it and let me have some peace,” he growled, his graying head dropping to the table. “If you get the security in knowing that you’re loved enough to never be banished any time soon, then let me have some happiness with alcohol.”

“Look, why don’t you just try to grab her attention again instead of whining in a bar and downing Guinness as if it’s mother’s milk,” Clayton suggested.

“Who said I haven’t tried?” Remus lifted his head, glaring at the scientist. “For months now I’m been practically jumping up and down and screaming at her to pay attention, and look where it’s gotten me so far. A beer in my hand and a mad scientist for a psychiatrist.”

“You don’t have the beer any longer,” Clay pointed out.

Remus shrugged. “True, though Dr. Frankenstein hasn’t left yet.”

“It’s Forrester to you Wolfy,” Clayton corrected him, taking a quick sip of his Coke.

The wizard shrugged. “Close enough, both start with F. And don’t call me Wolfy, it’s Remus.”

“Don’t call me Frankenstein then I won’t call you Wolfy, deal?”

“Fine, deal,” Remus agreed.

A lingering silence took over the two fictives, giving both of them a little time for introspection. A beautiful melody by a choir of Tom Servos drifted from one of side rooms, bringing a hint of class to the club. Though once they started singing about the many uses of jello the suggestion of elegance started to fade.

Clayton looked from the side of his eye at the other fictive. He truly hoped that nothing like that would ever happen to him or to any of his friends. Sure, his Writer wasn’t the most stable of people, or the most consistent, but he knew that she at least cared about them. But to see another of her fictives like this… it scared him. The thought of what would happen if he ever fades from existence terrified him, just like how it terrifies all fictives.

Remus folded his arms on the bar and laid his head in them. Being ignored for so long had made him so bitter, it was as if he was a different fictive all together. He didn’t know what had brought him to the TTPCTS Club of all places, all he knew was that he had found a way out of Shantytown and he took it. Watching fictives fade from existence every single day for about three months had taken its toll on him. He was a fairly sensitive fictive, quiet, not quick to judge, but strong at the same time. Now look at him; crude, angry, and broken. He guessed that the exact time when he finally broke was the day when he saw another version of himself fade. He was traumatized for a week after seeing that, even Severus started to get worried about him, which was saying a lot.

Thinking of the others, he wondered if they had found a way out of Shantytown also. He hoped so. Remus didn’t want the rest of them to suffer the same fate as one of his doubles did. The thought alone made him shiver.

Taking in a deep breath, Remus lifted his head and looked back at the other fictive. In the back of his mind, he was rather jealous of his Writer’s MST3K fictives. The worst they’ve experienced so far was just writer’s block. One part of him, the angry part, wanted to see them wasting away like he had in Shantytown. The other part, the part that was still the old and gentle Remus Lupin, wanted to see to it that they never, ever experience being on the brink of extinction.

Needless to say, at the moment Remus was one mixed up fictive.

Clayton, starting to feel a little uncomfortable due to the werewolf’s mesmerized stare, decided that it was about time to head back to his own universe. “Listen Remus,” Clay told him as he stood up. “I wouldn’t worry about fading anytime soon.”

Remus gave him a curious look. “Why do you say that?”

Clayton shrugged and gave him a half smile. “You’re not in Shantytown anymore, aren’t ya?”

The wizard blinked, realizing what the mad scientist was saying. “Yeah,” he said, chuckling. “Yeah, you’re right. Thanks Clay.”

“Don’t mention it. Well, see you around then.” With that, Clayton walked out of the front door and into the momentarily sunny weather.

Looking up, he muttered, “You just had to send me to talk to him, didn’t you?”

What he got in response was a paper ball to the back of the head, the thrower nowhere in sight.

“Very funny,” Clayton scowled, though only half-heartedly. With a quick flash of light, Clayton Forrester was back in his universe.

***

Back in Reality, the Writer known as NightCat smirked. She was a little wary of sending Clayton in to cheer up her Remus fictive, but she was glad that she did. She didn’t know why she chose Clay though, but he was the first one she thought of when she saw the state Remus was in. Of course, Clay didn’t know that he had been sent to act as an esteem picker-upper at the time. NightCat knew that if he had known what she wanted him to do, Clay would have talked her into letting Mike or Joel go instead. There was just something in the fictive she saw that made him a good listener and just the one to send when another was depressed, like Remus was.

Remus, the poor little werewolf. NightCat did feel bad about leaving him and the rest of the fictives from that universe behind in Shantytown. But that was before she had even heard of Subreality, before she started to actually listen to her fictives. When she had decided to retrieve her older fictives, she hadn’t expected Remus to have been so bitter and hurt. Before then she had only seen the gentle and quiet side of her fictive. To see him like that had spooked her in the worse way.

Well, now it was time to do some damage control.

Opening up a new document in Microsoft Word, NightCat quietly said to an old friend, “Just like old times eh?” She couldn’t help but chuckle at the loud whoop of excitement that only she could hear.

She wouldn’t leave her fictives behind again, she promised them that.