AUTHOR NOTE; Before you go ahead and read this chapter, I would like to put a warning. This chapter contains use of roofies.

You have been warned, so please don't come for me in the comments about this triggers you. If you know this will trigger you then please give this chapter a miss. Thank you!

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One rev. Two rev. It wasn't until the third rev of Christine's engine that Dennis snapped out of shock and scrambled to his feet as the car came full speed towards him. She missed him, only by mere inches, as he reached his blue Duster, placed a hand on the hood and slid himself up and across it, landing on his feet the other side as she smashed into the left fender. He watched with bated breath as she reversed all the way back and rolled forward again, fully intent on ramming the car.

‘This is it. This is where I die’

Dennis shook the thought away. He couldn't drive his Duster with the damage that had been done, but if he stuck around he would be dead within the next five minutes. The problem with being in the middle of a long stretch of road between the heart of Libertyville and the graveyard on the outskirts though, was that there was little in between save for a field of dead grass and a street lamp every two feet. Christine, now directly opposite him again, revved her engine again. Though the day was still young, her headlights shone blindingly into his eyes, and when he looked away, he was left with a vivid after image consisting of bright yellows, vibrant oranges, and negative blues. Dennis staggered a few steps back, and as Christine came at him again, he jumped onto the hood of the Duster. It offered little protection, but it would buy him a moment to come up with something.

It turned out that he didn't need to. As Christine reversed and prepared ram herself into the front of the Duster, the whirr of another engine came into earshot, gradually getting louder and louder until a silver Chevy Pick-Up came into sight. Dennis watched, blinking in astonishment as Christine backed up once more and then swerved around and drove off, and let out an exasperated breath.

The truck that scared Christine off slowed as it neared him and when it stopped, Dennis got a good look at the driver that unknowingly saved his life. He gave the man a once over as he stepped out of the truck, taking note of his red flannel shirt, denim overalls and Wellington boots; a farmer, if he had to guess.

“You doin’ fine there? That's quite some beating yer’ gal has taken.”

Dennis wiped his clammy, shaking hands on his suit trousers and gave a nod. “Yeah, thanks. I erh- I ran out of gas and filled her up, the next thing I know some idiot comes out of nowhere and rams straight into her.”

“Need a hand gettin’ her outta here?”

“Uhhh… If it's not too much of an inconvenience.” He shrugged.

“Well, there's a garage that's on me way, I can drop yer off there.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Can yer gimme a hand gettin’ the tow rope all hooked up?”

“Of course.” He agreed, and drew in a breath to calm himself.

Dennis waited until the farmer had headed to the truck bed and then cautiously approached it himself, proceeding to help get the tow rope out and then hooked it up under the hood of his Duster while the farmer moved the truck closer and hooked the other end of the rope up under the truck bed.

“That should just about do it.” The farmer nodded, taking in their handiwork. “Name's Stewart, but me friends call me Stu. And what do they call you?”

“Dennis.” He answered, offering out his hand to shake.

“Wait a darn minute, you're the Guilder lad, are yer not?”

“That's right.” He confirmed. “You know my folks?”

“Yer ol’ man used to do the odd job for me back in the day.” The farmer said, hopping in the driver's side of the truck.

Dennis trailed around to the passenger side and then hoisted himself up into the cab. “Yeah, that sounds like my dad.”

“Say erh, think yer can give him me best?”

“Actually…” Dennis's teeth hovered above his lower lip, ready to bite down as he had second thoughts over what he was about to say. “Yeah, I'll pass the message once I get home.”

“ ‘Atta boy.”

Their conversation died as the truck engine roared to life, save for a few exchanges here and there about his father back in the days when he was Dennis's age. He didn't mention Christine, or the fact that his father had recently been killed in a supposed hit and run, or that he'd literally just come from his funeral. There was simply no need for it. At least, he didn't think so, and before they could get too deep into the subject, they pulled up into the garage.

“You be alright from here?”

“Yeah, I'll be just fine.” He answered. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anything for the Guilder's boy.” The farmer smiled. “And erh, don't forget to give me best to yer dad.”

“I won't.” He nodded, and faked a smile as he got out of the truck and unhooked his Duster from the tow rope.

Dennis waited until the farmer had pulled away and was back on the road before he leaned back against the passenger door of the Duster. It wouldn't be fixed within the day, and even if it was, he didn't know where he'd go. His family didn't want him home, and things with Leigh weren't any better. But there was a lack of options. The funeral would have finished just under an hour ago, and some, if not all, of the attendants would be well on their way home by now. As he stood, trying to think of his next move, he noticed the phone booth near the entrance to the garage and without really noticing what he was doing, he started searching his pockets for a quarter. After finding two loose in the breast pocket of his jacket, he trudged over to the small booth and shut himself inside.

He hesitated briefly, pondering who he should call, and then fed one of the two quarters to the machine and dialed a number. His fingers drummed impatiently on top of the metal box as the phone rang, then rang some more and he was about to put it down when the other end of the line was retrieved.

“What do you want, Dennis?”

“Sorry, Leigh I don't mean to disturb you but-”

“Look, if this is about Christine then I'm hanging up.” She snapped.

“No, it isn't. Not exactly.”

“Then what do you want? I told you that after the funeral we were done. That starts now.”

“I know, and I respect that but I'm stranded at the garage right now because Ch- because someone rammed my car and I didn't know who else to call. My mom doesn't wanna hear from me, and it's not like I have a best friend I can count on. I don't know what to do.”

“And?” She said in a tone that, in person, would have been accompanied by a shrug. “Guess you should have thought about that before your little performance at the funeral. You can't really blame your mom for not wanting to talk to you, I don't either if I'm honest. Figure it out yourself, I'm hanging up.”

“No, Leigh please-”

But before he'd finished the sentence, she hung up. Dennis slid the remaining quarter back into his pocket and slammed the phone down. He loosened the tie around his neck as he stormed out of the phone booth and back to the Duster. Despite its current state, he got in the driver's side, slamming the door even harder than he had back at the cemetery. For a while, he just sat there like he had on the side of the road, not quite knowing what to do with himself. If his dad were still alive, he'd have called him and he knew, without a doubt, that he'd have come to his rescue. But he wasn't, and it was because of that damned Plymouth Fury. It was almost laughable how quickly things had fallen apart after the hit and run, and now everyone thought he was crazy.

Dennis stole a brief glance across at the passenger side, the seat that Arnie had once occupied every morning and every afternoon, every summer's day and every winter's evening, and exhaled sharply. He hadn't found himself missing him a lot since his funeral, but it was moments like this that he couldn't help but wonder how different it would have been if Arnie had survived the night they'd crushed Christine. With that thought, he threw his head back against the seat and closed his eyes.

“Lonely, isn't it?”

Almost bolting from the car in surprise, Dennis opened his eyes wide and his jaw dropped when he saw Arnie in the previously empty passenger seat. This time, looking more like the shy kid he'd grown up with than the possessed owner of the Fury.

“Arnie?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I-”

“That's how I felt. You could say it's what drew me to Christine. I was so desperate for that feeling to go away that I forgot about what I already had; you.”

“This isn't real.” Dennis muttered, shaking his head. “I'm hallucinating or dreaming or- or something.”

“Maybe.” Arnie agreed. “But I don't see you fighting to snap out of it.”

“It's hard to want to when you feel so empty inside that even company that isn't real is better than none at all.”

“See? Now you should understand me better.”

“Nah.” He said in a sigh. “I will never understand your obsession with that thing.”

“She, Dennis. She's not a thing.”

“This is absurd. I'm sitting in my broken down car, talking to a hallucination of my best friend.” He muttered to himself. “I can't go on like this, it's driving away everyone that I care about.”

“But you care about me, don't you, Denny?”

Dennis swallowed, feeling nauseated all of a sudden. Overheated too, the way he had felt the first day back at school after Arnie's funeral. He couldn't pass out again. In school it was bad enough, but in his car outside a garage where Christine could easily come along was worse.

“I did… before you turned your back on me.”

“That might be true, but look around; where is everyone else? Seems I'm not the only one, so maybe the problem is with you, Denny.” Arnie argued.

“Leave me alone, man.”

“What's the matter? I thought you liked the company.”

“Please just leave me alone.” He begged. “I don't need this. Let me be.”

When Dennis looked again after a few seconds of silence, Arnie was no longer in the passenger seat and only his reflection in the window stared back at him. He contemplated spending the night in the Duster, but just as soon decided against it. If cops came by… Well, things couldn't possibly get any worse, but he didn't fancy spending the night in a cell and having to call his mother to come and get him. With little to no options, he got out of the car and headed back over to the phone booth.

Reaching into his breast pocket, he retrieved his last quarter and twirled it around in between his fingers. If he called Leigh again and she hung up, there would be no other option than to make himself comfortable in the Duster. Against his better judgment though, Dennis fed the quarter to the machine and punched in the same number. This time it rang only once before the call was retrieved.

“Leigh, please don't hang up on me. I know I shouldn't be calling you, and I promise that after tonight you'll never hear from me again if that's what you want. But… I really, really need your help.” He started before she could speak a word. “Please, I don't know who else to call and, quite frankly, there's no one I can trust other than you.”

“Alright, I'll see if I can borrow my dad's car and come get you.”

Dennis's eyes widened, surprised at how easy it had been to persuade her, but he wasn't about to push and screw it up. “Thank you, and I promise after this I'm gone. Okay?”

“We can deal with that later, just sit tight. I shouldn't be no more than ten minutes, and you can crash here tonight.”

“Thanks, Leigh. I appreciate it.” He said. “I'll be waiting by my car.”

“I'll see you.”

Dennis exhaled in relief as the call ended and then skulked back over to the Duster. He had managed to convince Leigh to help, but that didn't change that he felt awful; both mentally and physically. He was tired, and it was only when he threw himself down in the driver's seat to wait that he realized he'd not eaten anything at all that day. Food had been the last thing on his mind, and despite not having eaten, he wasn't hungry in the slightest.

How could he be?

His entire world had been turned upside-down by one car. Just one autumn red ‘58 Plymouth Fury. Things with Leigh seemed to be crashing and burning right before his eyes, he held no certainty over his future since his accident, his mother was one step away from putting him in a straight jacket, and the only one who he'd ever been able to confide in had just been buried six feet under. Nothing would ever be the same again.

In a few short months, high school would be over and he had nothing. Everything that he'd achieved over the last four years had vanished in the blink of an eye.

Dennis pushed the thought to the back of his mind, and when next looked up ahead, he saw Leigh climbing out of her father's station wagon and heading towards him. In haste, he dragged himself out of the Duster to greet her.

“Are you okay? You look like you're about to pass out again.”

“I won't lie, I'm not feeling great, but I'll be okay. I just want to get out of here.” He answered. “Thank you, Leigh.”

“Yeah, you've said that several times. It's fine, just don't think this means things are good between us again, because it doesn't.”

“I know.” He sighed. “You have made it your mission to remind me of that every time we speak, and I don't need it today. Alright? As much as it probably kills you to hear, not everything is about you. I called you only because I don't wanna hurt my mom anymore than I already have and I appreciate you coming, but please stop trying to make it about us.”

Leigh folded her arms across her chest and shot him a warning look. “Don't make me regret this by being an ass.”

“I'm not being an ass, maybe you think that way because you can't handle the truth. Well guess what, it was you who pushed me away, looked me in the eye and told me that you feel nothing for me only after leading me on for weeks. I don't have the energy for this, if you're going to drag us around in circles again then just go and I'll sleep in my car.”

“No, you're right.” She admitted sheepishly, avoiding his eyes. “Come on, let's get out of here.”

Dennis, once again surprised by the lack of argument, didn't bother to push on the subject, and instead followed Leigh to the car in silence. It remained that way for the short ride back to her parents’ house, and even when she led him up the stairs and to her room where there was an airbed set up on the floor beside her own bed.

“My father set that up for you, it's not much but I'm sure it'll do for tonight.”

“Oh no, it's more than enough.” He nodded, and forced a fake smile.

“Can I get you anything?”

“Uhh, maybe some water.” He answered. “I've said it a lot, but thanks, Leigh.”

“Alright, I'll be back.”

With that, Leigh slipped from the room before he could say anymore. She made it all the way to the stairs before she stopped, and threw a glance back over her shoulder, just about catching a glimpse of Dennis sitting on the airbed with his arms resting on his knees and his head hung, and she let out a small sigh.

“Please, forgive me.” She whispered, biting down on her lip and then continuing down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Looking around to make sure that Dennis hadn't followed her down, and once she was certain that she was alone, she crept over to the phone. Leigh licked at her dry lips and swallowed, forcing the guilt back down where it wouldn't get in her way, and then punched in the number. After a number of rings the line connected, and she drew in a breath before speaking.

“Hello… Mrs Guilder?”

“Leigh?” Her response came. “Has he shown up?”

“Yes, he's upstairs right now.” She answered, glancing towards the door as if she expected him to appear there. “What should I do? You know he's not going to agree to any of this willingly.”

“For now, just keep him occupied. I'll be there first thing in the morning with the doctor. I would recommend giving him a little something to take the edge of and get him to relax a little.”

“I'm about to get him some water.”

“He won't take anything willingly though, you'll have to crush it down and mix it into the water. Just do whatever you have to do to keep him there, and I'll be there as soon as possible.”

“Ohh, okay. Are you sure that slipping him something is a good idea?” Leigh questioned, feeling the guilt growing in her like a tree.

“It'll be fine. It might be the only way for you to keep him there.”

“Alright. I should get back to him before he comes down looking for me. Thank you, Mrs Guilder.”

“Thank you, Leigh.”

After the other end was hung up, Leigh put the phone back down and continued over to the sink. She reached into the cupboard above and pulled out a glass before filling it with water, then opened up one of the kitchen drawers and fished inside until she found what she was looking for; her father's leftover box of roofies. She threw a look back over her shoulder to ensure that she was still alone, and when she saw no one she took two small pills from the packet and crushed them down. Once they were nothing but powder, she emptied them into the glass of water and used a spoon to stir it until the murky colour had faded.

Back upstairs, Dennis lifted his head as Leigh entered the room and took the glass from her hand as she offered it to him. A frown pulled at his eyebrows as his head started to pound at the reminder of how dehydrated he was, and without saying a word, he put the glass to his lips and downed half of the water.

“Are you sure that's enough? You haven't had a drink all day, maybe you should finish it. I can always run down and get you more if you need.” She prompted.

“Right.” He agreed, and raised the glass once more, finishing the rest of the water.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” He answered flatly. “Thanks.”

Leigh faked a smile as she took the empty glass from him and set it down on the nightstand. When she next looked at Dennis, he had his hands in his hair, his head down and eyes bore holes in the floor. Without quite thinking it through, she sat down beside him and stretched her hand over to his shoulder.

“It'll be alright, you know.”

“No.” He shook his head. “It won't.”

“Come on, don't say that.” She said, placing her other hand on his forearm and squeezing gently. “It's been a hard year for sure, but that doesn't mean it will always be this way.”

Dennis clenched his teeth, trying to hold onto the last shred of control he had left. All at once the room around him was spinning, his heart was beating harder and faster, slamming against his ribcage like it wanted to leap right out of his chest. His lips trembled under the pressure until he no longer had the strength to hold everything in.

“A hard year? That's the understatement of the century.” He scoffed. “I miss my best friend, and I miss my dad… I miss the way things were before that car came along.”

“Not this again.” Leigh complained, rolling her eyes.

“And you… you turned your back on me. I- I've never felt more alone.”

Leigh attempted a sympathetic smile, but when she couldn't bring herself to say anything, she extended both arms around him and enveloped him in a hug. Dennis exhaled a shaky breath and let his head drop on her shoulder.

“You're not alone, you just need to focus more on those that are still here.”

“It's my fault.” He said, drawing back from the embrace. “All of this.”

“Come on, Dennis. That's not true.”

“Yes it is.” He insisted, not bothering to hide the few tears that had already fallen. “I shouldn't have said anything to my dad about Christine, if he'd remained unaware then he'd still be here… an- and I shouldn't have stopped that day, if I'd have kept driving then Arnie wouldn't have been tricked into buying that car and I'd still have my best friend. I just- I feel so guilty.”

“Maybe.” Leigh shrugged. “But you can't think like that. Your father was interested to know because he cared so much about you, and Arnie was old enough to make his own choices. You stopped the car, sure, but you also tried to talk him out of it. None of what followed is your fault.”

Dennis closed his eyes and inhaled deeply in an attempt to pull himself together. Though no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to focus. The light of the room stung his eyes, making his vision fuzzy and unfocused like a camera lense zoomed in too close, and his stomach ached from both anxiety and hunger. Even as Leigh attempted to comfort him, he could barely remember the things he had said not even five minutes ago.

“I feel so cold.” He shivered, hugging himself tightly. “Cold and lonely. I need someone to believe me.”

“It's okay. I believe you.” She lied, afraid that if she struck up the same argument they'd been having since Arnie's funeral, he would leave.

“Y- you do?” He stammered.

“Of course.” She said, with the fakest smile she could manage.

A tense silence fell between them after her assurance as Dennis could do nothing but stare at her, unable to come up with a coherent response. The only sound in the room was the wheezing breaths that came from deep in his chest as he worked hard to keep an even pace. In his haze, a lazy smile pulled at his lips, feeling a strange sense of calmness that he could only assume was a result of Leigh's assurance. His eyes drifted down to her lips, then back up again to meet her eyes and before he could stop himself, he leaned over and pressed his lips firmly against hers.

She knew she should have pulled away, but if she did, she risked him leaving and if he did, there wouldn't be another chance to fix him. Leigh broke the kiss for a second, licking at her lips and drawing in a breath before allowing him to kiss her again. This time as he did, he brought a hand up and threaded his fingers through her curled brown hair, and she closed her eyes.

“Leigh…” He whispered against her lips. “I thought you-”

“Shhh.” She hushed him. “I think we talk too much.”

“I know that you and Arnie… but that doesn't mean we can't-”

“I don't care about Arnie anymore, Dennis. I care about you.” Leigh swallowed, feeling the guilt bubbling inside her, knowing that she was only saying the words because he wanted to hear them. “He's not here anymore, we can finally be together.”

Dennis felt his heart begin to pound once again, though this time it wasn't due to fear, but her confession. For the first time in over a month, he felt the slightest shred of happiness. The weight he'd been carrying around since the start of Christine's terror started to shift just a little, and he found it easier to breathe. He didn't want to ruin the moment by talking too much, and instead of trying to come up with a response, he moved one hand to her face, caressing her cheek as he kissed her again. Leigh didn't close her eyes, even as he closed his and took her lower lip between his teeth. She needed to stop this, but upsetting him now would ruin the plan. With a guilty breath, she watched with doe-like eyes as he shed his jacket and shirt, and made no protest when he laid back, pulling her down with him. It was only one night, after all. It couldn't really do much damage… at least, that's what she had to tell herself to go through with it.

By morning light, it would be nothing but a memory and she could drop the charade.