Ever since he was young, he’d been able to smell it coming. There was something about the air right there around the last week of September, something dark and sharp that pricked his nose and alerted his brain. It got his blood going, that smell, and he started turning his face up in anticipation. He’d noticed long ago that the sky was never bluer than in October, that the air was never fresher, and the wind never more alive.
It had been so much more magical when he’d been young. He’d still been able to believe back then. The fear of pumpkin-headed nightmares dressed all in black rags was still a very real, very immediate concern. Witches still glided across the moon, werewolves still lurked behind every tree. Each scuff of his shoe in the crisp, fallen leaves had the potential to turn up unheard of treasures.
He was more cynical now. He had to be; the life he was living didn’t lend itself to innocence and the people he spent his time with didn’t tolerate flights of fancy as well as they claimed to. Duff, occasionally, would go along with it. There was an air of childish naivety about him that would probably never go away, no matter what happened. Izzy appreciated that, cherished it even. He’d lost his innocence a long time ago. All he had left now was wildness.
It wasn’t the kind of wildness typically associated with rockstars. When the world ‘wild’ was thrown around in his circles, it always meant drinking and drugs and women, partying so hard that an early grave was almost certainly involved. It was the kind of wild that Slash was, the kind of wild that Axl and Steven and, yes, Duff were. And he was too, but not right now.
October brought it out the worst, and he always knew it was coming. There would be that itch under his skin, and then the empty despair in the pit of his belly. It wasn’t depression exactly. It was so much more than that. It was the conviction that somehow, somewhere, something wonderful was happening and he was missing it.
So he’d walk. He would put on a pair of beat up old black boots and shove his hands in his pockets and just walk aimlessly. Sometimes through the city, sometimes through the country. He preferred walking through the country, of course. There was more room to roam, less chance of interference by other people. Nothing annoyed Izzy so much when he was in a mood as another human being.
Naturally, that meant Axl always came out looking for him.
Izzy left early in the morning to avoid detection, but not too early. Eight was ideal, because no one was awake yet, and all the partiers had safely passed out hours ago. The studio had been very understanding about sending a car over, seeing as how it was his baby sister’s birthday and all, and by ten he was well out of the city and on his way… somewhere.
It had taken nearly an hour and a half and a thousand winding back roads before he was satisfied, and he climbed out of the car with a little sigh. There were trees here, and a wide expanse of sky, and just enough open ground for him to roam around. His face tilted up as he paced away from the road, boots crunching in the dried grass. Perfect.
Outside, the wildness didn’t actually go away. It was more that it grew, expanding to fit into this new horizon he’d given it. He wanted to walk until his feet fell off, until he forgot who he was and why he’d started in the first place. He wanted to just… give in, let it carry him away. It was never more tempting than it was in October, when the sky was so blue that it hurt and the wind smelled like it was blowing to him across a thousand childhoods.
So he walked and he thought and he stared up at the sky, and soon he had no idea where his car was. He’d been too wrapped up in himself to pay attention to where he was going, and when it finally occurred to him to go back, he looked around and there were no familiar landmarks. The realization was considerably less alarming than it should have been, and Izzy wondered if he’d finally just stopped caring. It seemed like a reasonable proposition.
He kept walking.
The wind picked up, and he wished he’d brought a better jacket. He’d really only anticipated being out for a few hours, tops, and he’d left his heavy coat back in the car. The sun was going down now, and Izzy was starting to get hungry. He patted through his pockets and came up with a half empty pack of cigarettes and a book of matches. Not much fucking good, but better than nothing. Sighing, he lit up and trudged on.
It was getting dangerously near sunset when he saw something dark on the horizon. It wasn’t a tree, but beyond that, he couldn’t quite make out anything about it. Maybe a water tower? That would mean a town, and phones. He could call the guys, get someone to swing out and rescue him. Duff, probably. Everyone else would be too pissed off with him to bother. In fact, he was counting on it.
But the closer he got, the less and less sure he was of the silhouette. It didn’t look anything like a water tower. Or a radio tower or a telephone pole or… hell, anything. Squinting, he broke into a jog. No lights, no sounds. Whatever it was, it was obviously abandoned. Not a good sign, but there might be some shelter at least. He didn’t relish being caught alone outdoors at night, particularly in a place he didn’t know. Dubious shelter was better than nothing.
Izzy revised that statement as he slowed back down to a walk, then came to a dead stop. A rusty gate rose up in front of him, studded with bits of rotting wood that had once been brightly painted. Reds and yellows, greens and blues, all faded to a depressing dingy gray flecked with bits of whatever shade it had once been. Beyond that was a clutter of little stands, some still standing, some fallen over, all adorned with filthy tatters that fluttered in the wind. And beyond that, rising like some metallic shepherd keeping watch over its ruined flock, was the thing Izzy had seen, the Ferris wheel.
Right, he thought wryly, pacing forward a little and peering in. When I was thinking ‘dubious shelter’ I didn’t exactly mean… this. The place had obviously been abandoned for several years. It wasn’t technically trespassing, therefore, if he went inside. It was just plain stupid.
He did it anyway.
As soon as he walked under the arch, the atmosphere seemed to change. It was like the air turned alive, crackling with energy and writhing like eels around his arms and legs. He knew it was all in his imagination, but that didn’t stop it from being fucking creepy as hell. Shivering, Izzy crept slowly along the trash covered paths. He knew logically that he was the only one here and that there was no need to be quiet, but emotionally, he wasn’t so sure. Weren’t abandoned carnivals featured heavily in horror movies?
Fuck, and he could see why. There was nothing quite as creepy as a place that had once been so full of life and noise and smells, now lying silent and cold in the rapidly fading light. Any second, Izzy expected to find a desiccated corpse propped against one of the food stands, or an army of bloodthirsty zombie clowns or something. Every step was an exercise in willpower, and Izzy lit a cigarette to comfort himself. At least now he could grind it out in the eye of whatever attacked him.
Nothing did attack, but when he rounded the next corner, he almost shrieked like a girl. There, in the middle of a small clearing, sat the merry-go-round. Izzy had always been vaguely suspicious of the things, but this one was just pure fucking evil. Rain and wind had worn down the carousel figures until they were only vague representations of animals, fuzzy and dream-like among the faded candy-striped poles. And Jesus God, there was something moving among them…
Izzy whirled to run, feet skidding in a pile of trash, and a voice erupted from behind him. “CHRIST!” It was disturbingly familiar. “There you fucking are, you stupid asshole! Don’t you fucking run from me, Isobel! You know how long I’ve been looking for your ass?”
Axl? Izzy turned, holding his cigarette out like it was a weapon. He was sure that the skinny figure stalking towards him was a mirage, some kind of freaky ghost image that the evil carnival had forced into his skull. He was so fucking doomed. God, he should have left a will or something. Now Slash would try to steal all his guitars…
“Don’t just stand there, man,” the mirage snapped, snatching the cigarette out of his fingers and taking a deep, irritated drag. “Goddamn, this place is a fucking maze, isn’t it? I thought I’d never find you. That fat fuck at the gas station said it was easy to find, but he neglected to mention that it was some fucked up Ray Bradbury shit. But I guess that’s why you’re here, huh? You sick fuck. Next time you decide to take the fuck off, how about you tell someone so I don’t have to bring my happy ass out to Bozo’s Park Of Sinister Bullshit to keep Duff from having to breath into a paper bag?” He stopped and looked up at Izzy expectantly, and Izzy knew it was really Axl. Only Axl could look so deeply annoyed with him.
“You… know who Bradbury is?” It was really the only thing he could say at this point. Axl snorted in disgust.
“God save me from assholes and lunatics.” He turned, scowling and looking around. “Now which fucking way do we go to get to the cars?”
“Car,” Izzy corrected softly. “I walked here.”
“You walked.” Axl folded his arms and stared, green eyes as flat and disbelieving as his voice. “All the way from the city.”
“No! No, I drove from there and then I got out of the car and…” Izzy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s kind of a long story. How’d you find me?” He was started to suspect that Axl had implanted some kind of crazy James Bond radar chip in his arm or some shit. The little bastard always knew where he was.
“Got lucky.” Axl was still looking around with a faint scowl on his face, obviously trying to remember which way he’d come from. “I figured you’d gone south since there are less people out this way, and I asked around at some gas stations. Some fat fuck told me about this place and I fucking knew that’s where your sick, twisted ass would be. So… here I am.”
Izzy just stared, utterly gobsmacked. The series of coincidences was too incredible to be possible. Either he was dreaming or… this was happening for a reason. He wasn’t sure he believed in fate and destiny and all that bullshit, but it was really hard to maintain a skeptical front while standing beside the creepiest carousel in history with the man he lo—
“HELLO!? Hey, quit fucking staring!” A slim, pale hand waved in front of Izzy’s eyes and he snapped out of his daze. “Ground control to Major Douchebag! God…” Axl turned away before he could see the little scowl on Izzy’s face, arms folding across his narrow chest. “Help me figure out how the fuck to get out of here.”
“I don’t even know how I got in here,” Izzy muttered, shuffling a little closer to Axl. It annoyed him that the smaller man didn’t seem fazed at all Axl could have at least had the decency to be a little bit freaked out.
“Oh, fat fucking lot of good you are,” Axl snapped. He glanced around once more and then stomped off, fingers closing tight around Izzy’s wrist and dragging him along. It was comforting, really. For the first time in a long time, Izzy was relieved that Axl was bossing him around.
They rounded a corner and stopped short in perfect unison. There was a moment of silence between them as they stared at the monstrosity before them, both wrestling with the appropriate response. It took mere seconds for them to arrive at a conclusion, but it seemed like they stood for hours, transfixed by the sight before them.
And then they burst into snorting, sophomoric giggles and clung to one another for support.
“Tunnel of Luuuuuuv!” Izzy crowed, and Axl howled with delight. “C’mon, Axl, let’s go in the Tunnel of Luuuuuuv!” He started to tug Axl towards the giant heart and they both stumbled, cackling and prodding each other.
“No fucking way!” Axl protested, digging his heels into the ground and hauling Izzy back. Izzy stumbled, and they crashed against each other, laughing happily. They hadn’t had this much fun together since they were kids. It really was amazing what a weird situation could do to promote camaraderie.
“What’s wrong, dude? You scared?” Izzy taunted, wrapping an arm around Axl’s waist and pulling him close. It was a totally innocent gesture, and as soon as he’d done it, he realized what a mistake it was. Axl was pressed against him now, slim and warm and trembling with laughter. Oh god, what a disaster…
“It’s dark,” Axl shot back, nuzzling up like nothing was out of the ordinary. Maybe it wasn’t for him. They’d knocked each other around and been physically affectionate since they’d known each other. To Axl, this wouldn’t be any different. “And probably smelly. And the boats are probably crawling with fucking spiders.”
“Yeah, probably…” Izzy winced a little. He sounded awful, hoarse and distracted. Axl’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” He’d barely finished the question when Izzy yanked him forward. Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea… But he couldn’t help it. Not when Axl was standing there, lit by the rising moon, lips curved up in a laughing grin. He had to touch, had to kiss, had to search for the sweetness there in the corners of Axl’s smile.
Axl moaned into the sudden contact, head tipping back, lips parting eagerly. It was so different than last time, so much better. Then, it had been pouring rain and Axl had been in a foul mood made worse by teasing. Now, though… God, now it was October and Izzy could taste the acrid sweetness that stung the air lurking in the back of Axl’s throat, like it’d been hiding there all along.
He wondered, insanely, if he loved Axl because he tasted like October, or if he loved October because it tasted like Axl.
And then Axl was moaning and he had to pull back. He had to end it now before he got carried away, because if he didn’t everything would come crashing down around his ears. Oh, he could throw Axl down and fuck him right here, right in the middle of this twisted little nightmare set. He could have what he’d always wanted…
And then he’d have to get up and get dressed and go back to being Izzy. He’d have to go back to watching Axl traipse around with women hanging off of him, have to watch him laugh and bask in the love the world threw at his feet and know that he simply wasn’t enough. He would never be enough to keep Axl’s attention and deep down he knew that, and so he pulled away.
“Why do you always do that?” Axl murmured, fingers fisting in Izzy’s shirt. “You always back away from me, Jeff…”
That stung, and Izzy actually winced a little as he reached up to grip Axl’s wrists, gently detaching him. “Dude, we’re in a haunted amusement park,” he said, summoning his best smile. Axl still looked dubious. “C’mon, it’s dark. We should get back and then… we can talk about it.”
Axl shrugged and nodded, turning away and glancing around. “I think we go this way,” he said, setting off in a different direction. Izzy stayed behind for a moment, staring up at the big red heart that led to the Tunnel of Love. It was curiously unfaded, as though someone had been coming out here every month and touching up the paint job. As he looked up at it, the wildness faded a little, easing back until it was just a contented little ache in his heart. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the wonderful thing he’d been compelled to search for every year. Axl and a creepy carnival and the Tunnel of Love…
Laughing softly to himself, Izzy turned and followed Axl back to the waiting car.
