SPN Fanfic: Eyesight to the Blind (mild R)
Title: Eyesight to the Blind
Rating: GEN, Mild R (for bad language, drug references and disturbing content)
Characters: Ansem Weems (Webber), Andy, Tracy
Word Count: 2350-ish
Warnings: Contains Andy, therefore many references to drug use. Some disturbing material, spoilers for 2.05
Summary: "He got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro."
A/N: Written for the Blind Item Prompt Challenge at spn_thur_nights: Andy, Webber, and an EMF reader. Different than what I usually write, and I'm not exactly happy with it, so seriously watch your step. Not Humor. Beta'd by starrylizard, thank you thank you thank you! Further notes after cut. [LJ-Only]
More A/N: A few things. I have never been to a rock concert. Ever. I didn't have any Aerosmith songs at all before I started writing this. Nothing against Aerosmith, just didn't have any. I have no idea if this is a legitimate use for an EMF reader, and I doubt any of this remotely fits canon since if the whole psychic kid activity thing showed up on EMF, someone would have said something in the show. However, the spn_thur_nights prompt was Andy, his evil twin, and an EMF reader. This is what came of it, and I fully admit that wedging in that freaking EMF meter was a giant pain. Webber's POV so some things are quite... tweaked. Again. Not Humor.
-
Eyesight to the Blind
by CaffieneKitty
-
The best thing about controlling people at a rock concert was it wouldn't raise any suspicion at all. Anything that happened would get blamed on whatever substances they'd abused before entering the well-policed venue. For example, the huge bong Andy had fired up in the back of the van before the three of them had come in.
"This is so great!" Tracy shouted, eyes shining in the gloom. Up on the stage Steve Tyler jumped around like a rat on fire. "Aerosmith went through a couple of years ago, but we couldn't go then."
"Honking on Bobo Tour." Webber shouted absently, waiting for Andy to return. He thought of himself as Webber now, not Ansem Weems, because it was the name his brother called him. He was concentrating on meeting the eye of a woman in the crowd ahead of them who was clinging a guy's arm.
Tracy had only just stopped giggling a few minutes ago, which was good because Webber had been about ready to force her to go crowd surfing off the balcony. But that might upset his newfound brother who seemed to have the heart of a stuffed bunny.
Webber was relaxed, but this whole pot thing wasn't a high. Sure his vision was a little sparkly around the edges, and the tips of his fingers were numb, and yeah his brain felt like it was made of yogurt, but this wasn't high. Using his power, that was a high. Although the buzz was reducing the power-induced headache; helpful. Maybe yogurt didn't feel pain.
He'd been amusing himself by pushing concert goers to do things. Why not? It's a concert and they're all insects anyway. It was fun to watch 'em squirm. It was practice too; he hadn't said a word to any of them. Couldn't, over the music, most of the time.
He was holding back from inducing someone to kill themselves outright, because hey, it's Aerosmith. It'd be rude. A couple people had been hauled away by event medical, and at least one person was going to OD on something lethal by the end of the night, so that was good. Subtle.
The woman in the crowd finally looked up and met his eyes. Webber focussed. You hate him. You hate everything about him. You hate him. He sickens you. The spike of headache was worth it as he watched the couple suddenly shift apart, the woman's angry shouting lost in the music. It was petty, but it was practice. He hadn't even mouthed the words that time. The man with the yellow eyes would be pleased.
A couple roadies in tour jackets stenciled with "TECH CREW" angled suddenly in Webber's direction, their attention focussed on a little flashing box they were carrying. One was about as wide as he was tall, huffing unhealthily, and the other one might be a woman, her hair caught back into a short ponytail. Webber frowned as the roadies came straight towards him.
The slow song ended and Tracy was still yapping. "I don't know how Andy got the money to pay for this, but I'm really glad we could go this time. It was really nice of him to take all of us."
Webber smirked a little in the gloom. He was hoping his newfound brother hadn't paid for a single thing for most of a month. "Yeah, Andy's awesome!"
"Oh! Of course it's nice to have a chance to get to know you too, Webber," Tracy said quickly in the mistaken belief that Webber cared what she thought of him, "Did you know Andy before you moved to town?"
Webber ignored her, pretending he hadn't heard her say anything as the band launched into something bluesy that promised a lot more balls. The roadies were still coming straight at them, he wasn't sure why, but when the woman looked up to gesture in their direction, he caught her eye. Nothing overt or flashy. These weren't chemically-altered concert-goers; these were staff. Go away. Webber thought at the woman.
The pony-tailed woman turned around and walked in the other direction, her coworker trailing behind in confusion as the device in his hands flashed again. Onstage, the lead singer was wailing "Baby please don't go." Webber felt an attack of giggles coming on but quashed them.
Andy came back with three beers, frowning quizzically.
"Whassup, dawg?" Webber shouted over the music with a grin.
"There's, like, a mosh pit up front," Andy said, leaning in to be heard. "They were going psycho during the last song."
Tracy laughed. "People mosh to 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing'?"
Andy shrugged and passed Webber a beer. "I guess so. It was totally nuts. People might get hurt."
"Oh, I'm sure the security people would break it up before people got hurt," Tracy assured Andy, patting his arm.
Webber just smiled. Any moron can start a fight; pushing people to start that mosh pit so they'd hurt each other and think they were having fun doing it? That was art. "Do I owe you anything for the beer, bro?"
Andy's eyes glittered as he grinned, wide and bright in the darkness of the American Airlines Center. "Nah, it's all cool."
Tracy laughed. "Wow, you must have saved up all year or something because I know you don't get paid this much!"
Andy's face fell for a second before he grinned again. "Tips. I've been saving up my tips." He took a drink of his beer, eyes shifting.
"You get tipped a lot better than I do, then!" Tracy shouted, laughing.
Once again Webber considered forcing Tracy to shut up, but his brother was fixated on her for some reason. She was attractive, Webber noted, but she was nothing. She owned the diner he and Andy worked at, not that either of them needed to work. She was just another insect. But Andy's insect. Not that Webber wouldn't be happy to pull off her pretty, pretty wings when the time came, if she got in the way and made it necessary. Until then, Andy could play with his little bug.
Webber heard a voice above the crowd and music, very close behind him. "...goddamned unshielded cable is over here somewhere, making an EMF feedback squeal no one but a bat is gonna hear on the live album," said a male voice, puffing.
"A bat or a sound engineer," said a laconic woman's voice. "I don't know why I was going to the other-"
Webber turned around and fixed the roadies with a stare. I told you to go away!
The box in the man's hand squeaked and flashed. Webber watched the pair to turn around and leave.
Webber turned back to Andy and found he'd missed Tracy yapping some more about something. Andy was paying full attention to her, smiling softly, eyes shining. It was nauseating.
But useful. Andy had some catching up to do.
"Hey," said Webber, suddenly leaning in between the pair. "Wouldn't it be awesome if we got a chance to meet the band?"
Tracy covered her mouth, "Oh my god. That would be fantastic! I've always wanted to meet Joe Perry!"
"Yeah?" Andy said, eyes glinting, "Wait here." He bopped through the crowd toward the backstage entrance.
"Where's he going?" Tracy asked.
Webber watched Andy head for the VIP access door, smiling broadly. Challenge yourself, that's the way.
"What's he doing?" Tracy shouted over the music, batting at Webber's shoulder. "He's not-"
"I dunno," Webber said smiling privately and wishing she'd shut up and stop pawing him so he could pay attention to Andy.
But then off to his left he heard the squeaking of the roadies' device. "...damn perfectionist sound engineers. It must be in the cable trunk by the stage door."
"If this one's no good for the live album, they'll have to try again in Vegas." They brushed past Webber and Tracy and were heading straight for where Andy was talking to the security guy on the stage door. Webber followed behind them as the band implored him to "Please Stop Messin' 'Round."
Webber considered the lyric. This subtle stuff was getting to be a real drag.
"They're gonna be pissed if they don't have that guitar showdown between Nugent and Joe Perry recorded for the live album."
"Yeah, no shit," said the woman. "Did you know Nugent was gonna be here?"
"I'd heard something but-"
"Hey!" shouted Webber, waving at the roadies. They both glanced up at him.
For half a second he considered his options, but... GO AWAY!!!
The roadies turned again and left in a random direction, continuing their conversation uninterrupted by the flashing, squeaking device they held. Webber sighed. They worked for Aerosmith, therefore they got subtle.
"What was that about?" Tracy said, right behind Webber.
Webber rolled his eyes. "Nothing. I thought I knew them. Hey, look, there's Andy."
"Hey, guess what?" said Andy over the opening notes of "Sweet Emotion", grinning, hands behind his back.
"What?" said Tracy.
Andy held out three Backstage Passes on lanyards, grinning. "I got us backstage!"
"How did you do that?" Tracy said in stunned amazement.
"I- I just asked them nicely and they said sure," Andy said handing out the passes with a sheepish secret smile and a shrug.
Webber grinned, full of mute pride. Practice makes perfect, bro.
Tracy turned the pass over in her hands, then glanced toward Webber with an astonished laugh. "I can't believe this! This is too much!"
"I think it's awesome." He grinned at Andy.
Tracy squealed and tackled Andy in a big hug. "Oh my god, I can't believe this! I'm so excited! We're going to meet the band!" She let Andy go and took a step back. "Oh my god! I have to fix my hair! I have to pee!"
Webber snorted.
Andy raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Okay?"
"Don't go in without me! I'll be back in five minutes!" Tracy called, running towards the restrooms.
Andy laughed and watched Tracy run off. "She's a little..."
"Worthless insect?" Webber suggested, grumpily.
"Huh?" Andy turned back to face him.
"Excited?" Webber said, a benign smile now in place.
"Yeah," said Andy, looking back in the direction Tracy had gone, twisting one sleeve cuff around his thumb. "Yeah..."
Webber clapped Andy on the shoulder. "Come on Andy! Who wouldn't be? Backstage at Aerosmith!!" He paused and leaned in. "So, come on, tell me. How'd you swing it, really?
Andy shrugged and laughed. "Like I said, I just... asked."
Webber's eyes glinted. Maybe... maybe. "Just asked. You're serious."
"Yeah," said Andy, looking over the crowd, watching for his little bug to return.
"That's some pretty awesome persuasive power you've got there, bro." Webber sidled a bit closer to Andy and lowered his voice. "Hey, it's almost like you can get people to do anything you want just by asking."
"What?" Andy's head whipped around. "Nah, are you kidding me?"
"No, really, I mean scoring Backstage passes while you're at the show, just by asking for them? It's totally like you can... I dunno," Webber smirked, "control people's minds or something."
"Ha!" Andy laughed far too loud in a lull in the performance, then looked around at the crowd. "Ha ha ha. No, it's just-"
"Ever think about what you could do with something like that? Power like that?" Webber said, advancing toward Andy intently. "You could rule the world, man."
Andy took a step back, retreating from Webber's advance, bumping into the back of the big roadie who'd returned again. "But I don't want-"
"You could do anything."
"Please," said Andy, raising his hands. "Please, I just want you to forget about it. All of it."
Behind Andy the box in the roadie's hand flashed and squeaked. "...there it goes again, dammit!"
Webber gaped blankly at Andy for a hanging moment. He just used it on me. He just tried to force me to forget and it didn't work. He looked at Andy's face in the gloom. Andy's eyes darted side to side, his hands held up in front of him, placating, sleeves sliding down from his knuckles. Scared. Alone.
Now. I could tell him right now, Webber thought. Tell him he doesn't have to be alone, we can do this together. He opened his mouth to speak.
NOT YET. NOT UNTIL THE TIME IS RIGHT.
An audible squeal of feedback rang from a nearby speaker, earning wild hooting from nearby concert goers.
"Goddamn it!" said the big roadie with the flashing EMF meter. "It's that speaker. Bud's gonna pitch a fit!"
"They can still do the live album in Vegas."
Andy stepped back as the roadies pushed past.
"Yeah but they're gonna be pissed they aren't getting that guitar showdown."
"What the hell can we do? Too late now. We'll go over the equipment and replace every damned speaker and cable if we have to and reset for the live recording...."
"...damn..."
Andy watched the roadies leave, face pale, then brought his eyes back to Webber. "Uh..." he stepped closer to be heard over the music. "Oh god, are you okay? Oh wow. Please don't have amnesia. I never- I swear I-" His hands twisted together, wringing his sleeve cuffs.
Webber realized he'd been standing there slack-jawed and staring. The Yellow-Eyed Man hadn't done that before. Talked to him while he was awake.
Over Andy's shoulder he saw Tracy threading her way back towards them.
Yeah. Not the right time. Webber blinked and let his face slide into bland, stoned interest. "Wow, that was some good shit you sparked up in the van, dude. I can't remember anything you just said." He laughed, a little too hard.
"Okay, okay, good. I thought I might have-" Andy laughed with relief and ducked his head, patting Webber on the shoulder. "Good. God."
"I'm here! I'm ready!" Tracy bounced up, disrupting any further conversation and hooked each arm through one of theirs, pulling them along towards the VIP entrance like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, with the Tinman and the Scarecrow. "Okay, now you guys have to promise you won't let me make an idiot out of myself. Oh god, do you think Ted Nugent and Lenny Kravitz will be back there, too? I really..."
Webber gritted his teeth and let the girl's babbling blend with the background noise, the insect hum of nobodies crowding the concert venue, and looked across behind her head at Andy. His brother's open earnest face was closed; still pale, but he was smiling.
The yellow-eyed man is right. Not yet. There's too much in the way yet.
Andy glanced over at Webber, and blinked when he met Webber's eyes already watching him. Flashed a bright, nervous grin. "So. Backstage."
"Kick ass, bro!" Webber flashed Andy a 'thumb's up' with the arm not being clutched by Tracy, then brought his eyes back to the stage door, away from his brother.
Not yet. But soon.
- - -
(that's it, I really hope it's okay)
Post A/N: In case anyone's curious, the specific concert they are attending is at the American Airlines Center on Jan 27th, 2006, the Dallas stop on the "Rockin' the Joint" Tour. Here's the review article I used for reference. The performance of "Train Kept a Rollin'" had Ted Nugent on guitar as a surprise guest, and there was a guitar battle between him and Joe Perry. The live album was recorded in Las Vegas, and I doubt they initially attempted to tape it in Dallas. There were no reports of EMF feedback or abnormal moshing in the article.
Rating: GEN, Mild R (for bad language, drug references and disturbing content)
Characters: Ansem Weems (Webber), Andy, Tracy
Word Count: 2350-ish
Warnings: Contains Andy, therefore many references to drug use. Some disturbing material, spoilers for 2.05
Summary: "He got me backstage at Aerosmith once. It was beautiful, bro."
A/N: Written for the Blind Item Prompt Challenge at spn_thur_nights: Andy, Webber, and an EMF reader. Different than what I usually write, and I'm not exactly happy with it, so seriously watch your step. Not Humor. Beta'd by starrylizard, thank you thank you thank you! Further notes after cut. [LJ-Only]
More A/N: A few things. I have never been to a rock concert. Ever. I didn't have any Aerosmith songs at all before I started writing this. Nothing against Aerosmith, just didn't have any. I have no idea if this is a legitimate use for an EMF reader, and I doubt any of this remotely fits canon since if the whole psychic kid activity thing showed up on EMF, someone would have said something in the show. However, the spn_thur_nights prompt was Andy, his evil twin, and an EMF reader. This is what came of it, and I fully admit that wedging in that freaking EMF meter was a giant pain. Webber's POV so some things are quite... tweaked. Again. Not Humor.
-
Eyesight to the Blind
by CaffieneKitty
-
The best thing about controlling people at a rock concert was it wouldn't raise any suspicion at all. Anything that happened would get blamed on whatever substances they'd abused before entering the well-policed venue. For example, the huge bong Andy had fired up in the back of the van before the three of them had come in.
"This is so great!" Tracy shouted, eyes shining in the gloom. Up on the stage Steve Tyler jumped around like a rat on fire. "Aerosmith went through a couple of years ago, but we couldn't go then."
"Honking on Bobo Tour." Webber shouted absently, waiting for Andy to return. He thought of himself as Webber now, not Ansem Weems, because it was the name his brother called him. He was concentrating on meeting the eye of a woman in the crowd ahead of them who was clinging a guy's arm.
Tracy had only just stopped giggling a few minutes ago, which was good because Webber had been about ready to force her to go crowd surfing off the balcony. But that might upset his newfound brother who seemed to have the heart of a stuffed bunny.
Webber was relaxed, but this whole pot thing wasn't a high. Sure his vision was a little sparkly around the edges, and the tips of his fingers were numb, and yeah his brain felt like it was made of yogurt, but this wasn't high. Using his power, that was a high. Although the buzz was reducing the power-induced headache; helpful. Maybe yogurt didn't feel pain.
He'd been amusing himself by pushing concert goers to do things. Why not? It's a concert and they're all insects anyway. It was fun to watch 'em squirm. It was practice too; he hadn't said a word to any of them. Couldn't, over the music, most of the time.
He was holding back from inducing someone to kill themselves outright, because hey, it's Aerosmith. It'd be rude. A couple people had been hauled away by event medical, and at least one person was going to OD on something lethal by the end of the night, so that was good. Subtle.
The woman in the crowd finally looked up and met his eyes. Webber focussed. You hate him. You hate everything about him. You hate him. He sickens you. The spike of headache was worth it as he watched the couple suddenly shift apart, the woman's angry shouting lost in the music. It was petty, but it was practice. He hadn't even mouthed the words that time. The man with the yellow eyes would be pleased.
A couple roadies in tour jackets stenciled with "TECH CREW" angled suddenly in Webber's direction, their attention focussed on a little flashing box they were carrying. One was about as wide as he was tall, huffing unhealthily, and the other one might be a woman, her hair caught back into a short ponytail. Webber frowned as the roadies came straight towards him.
The slow song ended and Tracy was still yapping. "I don't know how Andy got the money to pay for this, but I'm really glad we could go this time. It was really nice of him to take all of us."
Webber smirked a little in the gloom. He was hoping his newfound brother hadn't paid for a single thing for most of a month. "Yeah, Andy's awesome!"
"Oh! Of course it's nice to have a chance to get to know you too, Webber," Tracy said quickly in the mistaken belief that Webber cared what she thought of him, "Did you know Andy before you moved to town?"
Webber ignored her, pretending he hadn't heard her say anything as the band launched into something bluesy that promised a lot more balls. The roadies were still coming straight at them, he wasn't sure why, but when the woman looked up to gesture in their direction, he caught her eye. Nothing overt or flashy. These weren't chemically-altered concert-goers; these were staff. Go away. Webber thought at the woman.
The pony-tailed woman turned around and walked in the other direction, her coworker trailing behind in confusion as the device in his hands flashed again. Onstage, the lead singer was wailing "Baby please don't go." Webber felt an attack of giggles coming on but quashed them.
Andy came back with three beers, frowning quizzically.
"Whassup, dawg?" Webber shouted over the music with a grin.
"There's, like, a mosh pit up front," Andy said, leaning in to be heard. "They were going psycho during the last song."
Tracy laughed. "People mosh to 'Don't Wanna Miss a Thing'?"
Andy shrugged and passed Webber a beer. "I guess so. It was totally nuts. People might get hurt."
"Oh, I'm sure the security people would break it up before people got hurt," Tracy assured Andy, patting his arm.
Webber just smiled. Any moron can start a fight; pushing people to start that mosh pit so they'd hurt each other and think they were having fun doing it? That was art. "Do I owe you anything for the beer, bro?"
Andy's eyes glittered as he grinned, wide and bright in the darkness of the American Airlines Center. "Nah, it's all cool."
Tracy laughed. "Wow, you must have saved up all year or something because I know you don't get paid this much!"
Andy's face fell for a second before he grinned again. "Tips. I've been saving up my tips." He took a drink of his beer, eyes shifting.
"You get tipped a lot better than I do, then!" Tracy shouted, laughing.
Once again Webber considered forcing Tracy to shut up, but his brother was fixated on her for some reason. She was attractive, Webber noted, but she was nothing. She owned the diner he and Andy worked at, not that either of them needed to work. She was just another insect. But Andy's insect. Not that Webber wouldn't be happy to pull off her pretty, pretty wings when the time came, if she got in the way and made it necessary. Until then, Andy could play with his little bug.
Webber heard a voice above the crowd and music, very close behind him. "...goddamned unshielded cable is over here somewhere, making an EMF feedback squeal no one but a bat is gonna hear on the live album," said a male voice, puffing.
"A bat or a sound engineer," said a laconic woman's voice. "I don't know why I was going to the other-"
Webber turned around and fixed the roadies with a stare. I told you to go away!
The box in the man's hand squeaked and flashed. Webber watched the pair to turn around and leave.
Webber turned back to Andy and found he'd missed Tracy yapping some more about something. Andy was paying full attention to her, smiling softly, eyes shining. It was nauseating.
But useful. Andy had some catching up to do.
"Hey," said Webber, suddenly leaning in between the pair. "Wouldn't it be awesome if we got a chance to meet the band?"
Tracy covered her mouth, "Oh my god. That would be fantastic! I've always wanted to meet Joe Perry!"
"Yeah?" Andy said, eyes glinting, "Wait here." He bopped through the crowd toward the backstage entrance.
"Where's he going?" Tracy asked.
Webber watched Andy head for the VIP access door, smiling broadly. Challenge yourself, that's the way.
"What's he doing?" Tracy shouted over the music, batting at Webber's shoulder. "He's not-"
"I dunno," Webber said smiling privately and wishing she'd shut up and stop pawing him so he could pay attention to Andy.
But then off to his left he heard the squeaking of the roadies' device. "...damn perfectionist sound engineers. It must be in the cable trunk by the stage door."
"If this one's no good for the live album, they'll have to try again in Vegas." They brushed past Webber and Tracy and were heading straight for where Andy was talking to the security guy on the stage door. Webber followed behind them as the band implored him to "Please Stop Messin' 'Round."
Webber considered the lyric. This subtle stuff was getting to be a real drag.
"They're gonna be pissed if they don't have that guitar showdown between Nugent and Joe Perry recorded for the live album."
"Yeah, no shit," said the woman. "Did you know Nugent was gonna be here?"
"I'd heard something but-"
"Hey!" shouted Webber, waving at the roadies. They both glanced up at him.
For half a second he considered his options, but... GO AWAY!!!
The roadies turned again and left in a random direction, continuing their conversation uninterrupted by the flashing, squeaking device they held. Webber sighed. They worked for Aerosmith, therefore they got subtle.
"What was that about?" Tracy said, right behind Webber.
Webber rolled his eyes. "Nothing. I thought I knew them. Hey, look, there's Andy."
"Hey, guess what?" said Andy over the opening notes of "Sweet Emotion", grinning, hands behind his back.
"What?" said Tracy.
Andy held out three Backstage Passes on lanyards, grinning. "I got us backstage!"
"How did you do that?" Tracy said in stunned amazement.
"I- I just asked them nicely and they said sure," Andy said handing out the passes with a sheepish secret smile and a shrug.
Webber grinned, full of mute pride. Practice makes perfect, bro.
Tracy turned the pass over in her hands, then glanced toward Webber with an astonished laugh. "I can't believe this! This is too much!"
"I think it's awesome." He grinned at Andy.
Tracy squealed and tackled Andy in a big hug. "Oh my god, I can't believe this! I'm so excited! We're going to meet the band!" She let Andy go and took a step back. "Oh my god! I have to fix my hair! I have to pee!"
Webber snorted.
Andy raised his eyebrows and laughed. "Okay?"
"Don't go in without me! I'll be back in five minutes!" Tracy called, running towards the restrooms.
Andy laughed and watched Tracy run off. "She's a little..."
"Worthless insect?" Webber suggested, grumpily.
"Huh?" Andy turned back to face him.
"Excited?" Webber said, a benign smile now in place.
"Yeah," said Andy, looking back in the direction Tracy had gone, twisting one sleeve cuff around his thumb. "Yeah..."
Webber clapped Andy on the shoulder. "Come on Andy! Who wouldn't be? Backstage at Aerosmith!!" He paused and leaned in. "So, come on, tell me. How'd you swing it, really?
Andy shrugged and laughed. "Like I said, I just... asked."
Webber's eyes glinted. Maybe... maybe. "Just asked. You're serious."
"Yeah," said Andy, looking over the crowd, watching for his little bug to return.
"That's some pretty awesome persuasive power you've got there, bro." Webber sidled a bit closer to Andy and lowered his voice. "Hey, it's almost like you can get people to do anything you want just by asking."
"What?" Andy's head whipped around. "Nah, are you kidding me?"
"No, really, I mean scoring Backstage passes while you're at the show, just by asking for them? It's totally like you can... I dunno," Webber smirked, "control people's minds or something."
"Ha!" Andy laughed far too loud in a lull in the performance, then looked around at the crowd. "Ha ha ha. No, it's just-"
"Ever think about what you could do with something like that? Power like that?" Webber said, advancing toward Andy intently. "You could rule the world, man."
Andy took a step back, retreating from Webber's advance, bumping into the back of the big roadie who'd returned again. "But I don't want-"
"You could do anything."
"Please," said Andy, raising his hands. "Please, I just want you to forget about it. All of it."
Behind Andy the box in the roadie's hand flashed and squeaked. "...there it goes again, dammit!"
Webber gaped blankly at Andy for a hanging moment. He just used it on me. He just tried to force me to forget and it didn't work. He looked at Andy's face in the gloom. Andy's eyes darted side to side, his hands held up in front of him, placating, sleeves sliding down from his knuckles. Scared. Alone.
Now. I could tell him right now, Webber thought. Tell him he doesn't have to be alone, we can do this together. He opened his mouth to speak.
NOT YET. NOT UNTIL THE TIME IS RIGHT.
An audible squeal of feedback rang from a nearby speaker, earning wild hooting from nearby concert goers.
"Goddamn it!" said the big roadie with the flashing EMF meter. "It's that speaker. Bud's gonna pitch a fit!"
"They can still do the live album in Vegas."
Andy stepped back as the roadies pushed past.
"Yeah but they're gonna be pissed they aren't getting that guitar showdown."
"What the hell can we do? Too late now. We'll go over the equipment and replace every damned speaker and cable if we have to and reset for the live recording...."
"...damn..."
Andy watched the roadies leave, face pale, then brought his eyes back to Webber. "Uh..." he stepped closer to be heard over the music. "Oh god, are you okay? Oh wow. Please don't have amnesia. I never- I swear I-" His hands twisted together, wringing his sleeve cuffs.
Webber realized he'd been standing there slack-jawed and staring. The Yellow-Eyed Man hadn't done that before. Talked to him while he was awake.
Over Andy's shoulder he saw Tracy threading her way back towards them.
Yeah. Not the right time. Webber blinked and let his face slide into bland, stoned interest. "Wow, that was some good shit you sparked up in the van, dude. I can't remember anything you just said." He laughed, a little too hard.
"Okay, okay, good. I thought I might have-" Andy laughed with relief and ducked his head, patting Webber on the shoulder. "Good. God."
"I'm here! I'm ready!" Tracy bounced up, disrupting any further conversation and hooked each arm through one of theirs, pulling them along towards the VIP entrance like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, with the Tinman and the Scarecrow. "Okay, now you guys have to promise you won't let me make an idiot out of myself. Oh god, do you think Ted Nugent and Lenny Kravitz will be back there, too? I really..."
Webber gritted his teeth and let the girl's babbling blend with the background noise, the insect hum of nobodies crowding the concert venue, and looked across behind her head at Andy. His brother's open earnest face was closed; still pale, but he was smiling.
The yellow-eyed man is right. Not yet. There's too much in the way yet.
Andy glanced over at Webber, and blinked when he met Webber's eyes already watching him. Flashed a bright, nervous grin. "So. Backstage."
"Kick ass, bro!" Webber flashed Andy a 'thumb's up' with the arm not being clutched by Tracy, then brought his eyes back to the stage door, away from his brother.
Not yet. But soon.
- - -
(that's it, I really hope it's okay)
Post A/N: In case anyone's curious, the specific concert they are attending is at the American Airlines Center on Jan 27th, 2006, the Dallas stop on the "Rockin' the Joint" Tour. Here's the review article I used for reference. The performance of "Train Kept a Rollin'" had Ted Nugent on guitar as a surprise guest, and there was a guitar battle between him and Joe Perry. The live album was recorded in Las Vegas, and I doubt they initially attempted to tape it in Dallas. There were no reports of EMF feedback or abnormal moshing in the article.