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wroughtbetwixtfanfic · 5 years

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A Memory Of The Smell of Smoke, Ch 5.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Everyone liked to pretend that Campbell had been born bad. That their fear and hatred were logical, rational, justified, because Campbell was a monster incapable of making the choice between good and evil. Because he couldn’t feel the way they did. Well, fuck that. He was gonna prove them wrong. At least, that had been the plan.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Emotional Baggage, Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Substance Abuse, Animal Death, Complicated Relationships, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Implied Rape, Campbell has mild ASPD and is self aware enough to try and be better, the non-con is NOT Campbell, didn’t add an official warning because it is the aftermath only, yes it is the party becca mentioned and there will be a warning in the notes of that chapter, Campbell/Harry, Campbell/Elle.

Word Count: 4601 (chapter 5/5).

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || AO3

Then again, they do say that things get worse before they get better.

For whatever reason, Becca stopped talking to Campbell. He tried to text her to see if she was alright, but his number was blocked. He tried to talk to her, but she kept on walking. It would have been all too easy to get pissed off over it, but he shrugged and carried on with life. Perhaps she was embarrassed, or ashamed. Perhaps she wanted to pretend it never happened. Maybe it had been a really bad high. Who knew? But she wanted nothing to do with him, either way, and he didn't waste his time on people that obviously wanted him gone. Caring cost too much energy for that.

The end of the school year play was an adaptation of the film Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead. Cassandra, of course, decided to try out. It was more surprising that Harry tried out, too. Naturally, they both got the lead roles. And why wouldn't they? Cassandra had always been an amazing actress, and now that Harry had cleaned up his image to make himself the cute goody-two-shoes co-captain of the debate team in order to be more appealing to Kelly, it made sense that he'd charm his way in.

Campbell didn't need to worry about that. He got recruited to help with the set, and that was fine. It was something to pass the time, as always, and Elle was often there to help with choreography. It was a nice, long distraction. By the time rehearsals were over, they had two weeks left until prom and three until graduation; it was so close to being over that Campbell could taste it, and damn it was good. The play itself would shave one week off, and everyone would be too busy going bananas over prom that they wouldn't have time for much idle gossip.

Perfect.

Or, at least, it would have been perfect. Just before the opening night of the play, something began to smell. Literally. Campbell was hanging out with a few of the drama club kids he'd met through the play, the five of them sharing a few orders of fries after a long day of getting the stage ready for the big event. They were on their way out when Campbell caught a whiff of what smelled like rotting flesh. He gagged, covering his nose with his sleeve, and soon the other teen were coughing as well.

"What the fuck is that?" demanded Elaine, a chunky girl with bright pink hair, ripped jeans, and an MCR shirt. "Jesus christ, Henry, I told you not to go for the chili fries."

Henry, a scrawny blond, made a noise of complaint. "It's not me!"

"The wind is coming from the northeast," Campbell interrupted as everyone began to blame each other. "It's probably in the wood somewhere. A sewer leak or something."

Everyone quieted down and agreed, but the smell only got worse and worse as the evening went on. The next morning, Campbell and Sam came downstairs to find their living room filled up with people. Their parents, Harry's mother, Aunt Amanda and Uncle Jim, a few other influential members of town... and in front of them all, their other uncle, Rogers. Frequently heard blustering on about some damn thing, usually something racist, he wasn't anyone Campbell had any desire to be around. But there he was, shouting about the smell and what to do about it.

Campbell tuned it all out and made breakfast for himself, slipping out the door and heading to school before he was noticed. The smell was, in fact, terrible. Students were whispering theories to each other all day. Campbell heard that the smell was a dead whale washed up on the coast and the wind was carrying the smell, that it was a terrorist attack, that it was ghosts coming to haunt the town for some misdeed, it was meth gone wrong... But in the end, there were no answers. Just a constant, unyielding reek that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

At the very least, the first night of the play went off without a hitch. Even if it smelled like a dead skunk basted with cow farts outside, Cassandra and Harry were beautiful, witty, and gave a flawless performance. No one really payed attention to the fact that there was a town meeting among the adults the next day; Campbell overheard his mother talking to his father about it, and how Uncle Rogers had contacted some guy named Pfeiffer to get rid of the smell.

Campbell flopped on Harry's bed as Harry dug around his closet for a suit to wear to prom. "Who the hell has a job in smell removal? Is that a thing?"

"Don't know, and who cares? As long as I can go back to eating without everything tasting faintly like septic tank, that's all I care about."

Whatever the Pfeiffer guy was about, the day after the town meeting, the smell did vanish as quickly as it had come. For short time, things went back to normal. Campbell stayed home-- you've seen one night in a play, you've seen them all, in his opinion-- to cook mushroom carbonara while everyone else was out. If nothing else, he knew how to make a good pan of noodles, and it gave him time to think about asking Elle to prom. A sort of asinine affair, something he and Cassandra agreed on, but it was the last big thing of high school. Maybe it was worth a shot.

On the last night of the play, the smell returned. It was even worse than before, so strong that it stung their eyes and made some of the younger kids choke; the adults called yet another emergency meeting, and this time, it was decided that the EPA would be contacted. Until then, all students 16 and over would be sent away on a camping trip until the smell was removed. An exciting prospect in Campbell's mind, considering his family had never been camping his whole life. A whole weekend in the middle of nowhere? Roasting marshmallows, hiking, swimming, freaking Allie out with spooky stories? Cool.

"Mom and dad wanted to know if you got your toothbrush," Sam signed as they stood on the school lawn, everyone waiting for the buses to pick them up. "Did you?"

"Tell them to get fucked."

Sam stared. Campbell forced a cheerful smile and headed off to go wait elsewhere. He was standing at the curb when he heard someone approaching; he turned his head, ready to tell Sam to leave him alone, when Campbell realized it was Grizz heading his way. He was pale, his gait fast and jaw tight as he glanced around. Huh. Weird. The football player never really seemed nervous about much.

"Hey Campbell," Grizz greeted. "I have a question for you."

"I'm flattered, but I'm already asking someone to prom."

Narrowing his eyes, Grizz glared at him. "Hey. No, it's... Did you tag the wall of the church last night?"

"What?" Campbell blinked. "I'm no fan of Christianity, but no. I didn't tag the church with anything. Why?"

"Just wondering. There's some creepy Bible quote on one of the outside walls. Just thought maybe you'd know something about it."

"Someone's probably just dicking with us, man."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

There wasn't much time to debate it. Cassandra and her gaggle joined them at the curb, all of them eagerly chattering at Grizz, who seemed to be the group Boy Scout and everyone wanted camping advice. Five school buses pulled up soon after, and everyone began to pile on. One of the few places left on the bus was next to Elle; she had a look on her face that was positively icy, but he decided to take the chance anyways.

Campbell rested his hand on the seat and nodded to the empty space next to her. "Hey, I'm Campbell. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Elle glanced up at him. She didn't smile, didn't speak, but she shrugged a little and moved over enough to make room.

"Excited for the trip?"

"Not especially. I prefer indoor plumbing. You?"

"I don't know. It might be an adventure."

"An adventure, huh? From what I hear, you make plenty of your own excitement."

"Oh? Where'd you hear that?"

"I just pay attention."

Campbell leaned a little closer. She didn't flinch away, but she was watching him with a cautious intensity he hadn't seen from many others before. "It's too bad we've been going to school together all this time, and never really talked, don't you think?"

"What is there for us to talk about?"

"Dance, maybe. How many years did you do ballet before you moved here?"

"You know about that?"

"I pay attention, too."

That earned him the tiniest of smirks. "Okay, smartass. What else do you know about me?"

"Your family moved here from New York when you were about twelve. You tried to make friends with Lexie and her goon squad, but they ignored you and ever since then you've kinda just been alone. You spend most of your time reading, or playing the piano."

"Piano."

"Junior year, we had math together and Gelstein let us listen to music during tests." Campbell placed his fingers on the back of the seat in front of him, moving them along like he was tapping on invisible keys. "You'd move your fingers along to the music, but you thought no one noticed because you sat in the back."

"Ohh, you've got a good eye. Yeah, I can play the piano. But I feel like that's cheating a little. You sat right next to me."

"That's true. I also know that you eat all the green M&Ms first, and that is not something I found out sitting next to you."

Elle leaned back and arched her eyebrows. "You know, some people might considered that level of observation a little creepy."

"Do you think it is?"

"I don't know yet."

"Think you'll know in time for prom?"

"Well, how about this." She was smiling now, and the corners of her eyes crinkled a little. "Ask me when this trip is over."

A fair enough deal. They spent the rest of the morning discussing music, art, and entertainment; Campbell had to stop and let Elle ramble from time to time, though he noticed she did the same and wondered if it was for the same reason. He wasn't used to talking, to the point where he was getting winded. They had similar enough tastes, as far as modern music was concerned, and a similar view on politics. He liked modern dance, while she liked the more traditional forms, but it was still a shared interest.

They continued talking until the sun set and the bus fell silent, with students falling asleep as the bus ride continued well into the night. Elle slumped over near midnight, resting her head on his shoulder. She yawned, content. "This is fun. How come we've never talked before?"

"I don't know." Campbell allowed her to nestle close. He wanted to stroke her hair, but he kept his hands to himself. He didn't want to scare her by being too much, too fast. "I guess I was scared to approach you."

"Why?"

"Because you're pretty, and I'm trouble."

Ella closed her eyes, voice muffled as she drifted off to sleep. "Maybe I'm trouble, too."

Cute, but it was hard to imagine. Not because she was a girl or because she was small-- he'd seen a 4'11" girl take down a two hundred and fifty pound football player with one well aimed kick to the dick-- but because he'd never heard a single bad word about her from anyone who mattered. Well, who knew. Maybe she had a rap sheet from back home in New York. Campbell smiled a little, falling asleep himself soon after.

He had no clue how much time had passed when the school bus jerked to a halt. He stirred, blinking as the lights on the bus flickered back on. Everyone was murmuring, trying to figure out what was going on. Were they there? It was supposed to be a twelve hour ride, including breaks along the way, but they had left at three in the evening and the time on his phone said it was only a little past one in the morning.

"Change of plans," the bus driver said. His tone was flat. Bored. "Rock slides. The road is closed. You're back home."

The murmurs turned into sounds of disbelief. Campbell stood as the bus doors opened, making his way out along with everyone else. He stopped on the school lawn, and stared out into the darkness; there was no one there, no one besides the other students, and the weird smell was gone. It couldn't have been fixed that fast. The useless government never did anything fast, and it hadn't even been a full day yet.

"The fuck," he muttered as the buses all pulled away and left. "What is this?"

Ella stood next to him, frowning. "Strange. That's what."

Everyone began texting, calling. Campbell tried his father's number, knowing Sam was probably going to call their mother. It rang, and didn't stop ringing. No answer. No voicemail, even. He glanced around. He could see the worry and panic on everyone else as they seemed to be reaching similar results. No one was answering. Something was obviously wrong. With the smell gone, he wondered if it really had been a gas leak, and now everyone was fucking dead. Only one way to know for sure.

Plastering a smile on his face, Campbell looked to Sam and shrugged like it was no big deal. Make it seem like everything was fine. No need to freak out and start some kind of mass riot. "Well, I'm going home."

Sam grabbed his arm. His eyes were wide, and he was obviously at that freak out point already. "You're not going to wait for me?" he whispered, not bothering to even sign.

Campbell made a quick sign. "Hurry up, then."

He kept walking, and soon enough he heard footsteps trailing behind him. They walked in silence for a bit, before Sam signed to him. "Where do you think our parents are?"

"Home. Asleep."

"Do you think that's all?"

"Yeah." Campbell didn't believe it for a second, but Sam didn't need to know that right then. "Probably."

When they made it home, the cars were still there. All the lights were out inside. Campbell went in first, calling out to their parents, but there was no answer. Campbell and Sam exchanged a look; Sam's lips pursed, knowing without any words passing between them what the look meant. They were alone. Campbell searched downstairs, then headed upstairs. He didn't even care that Sam was right on his heels. It meant that they could both confirm at the same time that they were, in fact, alone in the house.

"No note," Sam said. "No message on the phone. Where could they be?"

Campbell frowned. He didn't have a damn clue what to tell his brother, but then their phones both began to blow up. Campbell looked at his, hoping for the first time in forever that it was their parents, but it was Harry. His mother was gone. Kelly's parents, too. No one could reach anyone, and their data was all knocked out.

Probably from the storm, Campbell texted back.

Yeah, Harry answered, and did the storm take all our parents too?

A good question. Suddenly he had texts from Elle and Cassandra, even Allie, asking where he and Sam were and could they find anyone. Cassandra finally texted for the two of them to meet her and everyone else back at the school. ASAP.

"Are you gonna go?" Sam asked.

It wasn't even really worth thinking about. Of course he was going to go, if only so he could get some idea of where things were heading. People were gonna start wigging out, and Campbell knew history well enough to know that a bunch of teenagers alone and afraid never meant anything good. And maybe someone, somewhere, had actually found something. Campbell nodded to Sam, and they both headed out to meet with Cassandra.

By the time they got to the school, a crowd had formed. Not everyone, and mostly seniors, but enough for Campbell to know it'd get ugly if the impromptu meeting didn't go well. Elle was there; she came over and stood at his side, one arm crossed in front of her chest and the other tangled up in her hair, her bottom lip pouting out a little. She opened her mouth to speak, but then someone else-- one of the football players, loud and brash-- yelled out.

"Who decided we needed a flash mob?"

Cassandra stepped out of the shadows. She stood on the other side of Campbell, pulling herself tall. "I did."

"What the fuck, Cassandra?"

"Better than 200 people sending texts. Has anyone been able to reach anyone?" she asked. The crowd was either silent, or mumbled a negative. "No one? Okay. Well, there's... there's definitely a simple explanation."

A voice Campbell didn't recognize yelled out. "Like what?"

"Um. They, uh." Cassandra glanced at Campbell. He said nothing, hell, he didn't even move; if anyone thought he was influencing her, they'd never listen. "They were evacuated, after we left. And there was a miscommunication, and we were brought back here by mistake."

"Someone would still answer a phone," Kelly pointed out.

"Maybe they're asleep. I don't know, maybe they some place with no reception. They're in a shelter with... with no reception, or something. In the morning, someone will answer a phone."

Goddamn it. Cassandra, cool and collected Cassandra, was losing it. Standing this close to her, Campbell could tell that she was shaking. Not much, but enough that Campbell felt a spark of worry. They were supposed to be the reasonable ones. Cassandra was valedictorian, disliked and unpopular but vocal and well-known in their senior class. If Cassandra lost it, the rest wouldn't be far behind.

"Maybe it's not safe for us to be here, if they all left."

"A couple hours isn't gonna make a difference. We'll figure this all out in the morning. Right now, we should just... uh, go home. Yeah, we should go home. And anyone who doesn't want to, uh, be alone can come back to our house. Right?"

Allie smiled when Cassandra looked to her. "Sure."

"Is that your advice, Cassandra?"

It had to be Harry that challenged her. Campbell cursed under his breath, and resisted the urge to strangle him. Cassandra and Harry always had been rivals, butting heads over everything and fighting for power at every turn, with Cassandra usually emerging victorious. But what about now, when people were scared and tensions were climbing?

"Yeah. Yeah, Harry, yeah, just go to sleep."

Harry rolled his eyes, but people began to disperse. Well, some people. The majority stayed put, hovering around closer to Harry and the jock brigade; they were whispering about the local liquor store, and Campbell took the moment to sidle over to Cassandra while everyone else seemed distracted.

"Do you honestly believe any of that?" he wondered, lowering his voice.

Cassandra shook her head. She took a breath, but it was already all too clear that she was out of her depth. "I have to, right now. It won't do any good tonight to think about it too much. We need to all go home, get some rest, and see what tomorrow brings."

"You know as well as I do that if we don't start preparing for the worst now, tomorrow it's gonna hit and this whole place is gonna go all Lord of the Flies."

"What the hell do you think happened?"

"Cassie, haven't you noticed anything else, besides our missing families?"

"The smell."

"Yeah, the smell. How are you gonna explain that to them? Or did the smell go to a shelter with no reception, too?"

Biting her lip, Cassandra looked at the crowd gathering around Harry. Before she could say anything else, Allie came prancing up, a cheeky smile on her face. "Cassandra. Campbell." His name was said like it was something disgusting, and her smile hardened just a bit. "I guess the guys are planning to raid the liquor store and have a party. Coming?"

"Really?" Cassandra sighed. "No way. I'm going to head home and try to figure this out. Please don't burn anything down."

Allie grinned and made her way back to her friends. Cassandra, Gordie, and their friend Bean headed off towards home. Campbell knew it'd be for the best to just leave, but he could see that Sam was staying, and Elle was watching him expectantly. Harry was waving them both over, and Campbell sighed. Might as well. Despite how bizarre it all was, the idea of not having to race home by ten and play Good And Normal Son with his parents was appealing.

"What was that about?" Elle asked. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp. "With you and Cassandra?"

"Oh, just cousin bickering. How about this party, huh?"

It started as just a bunch of them hanging out on the front yard of the church, with beers getting passed around. Campbell and Elle camped out in a quieter corner, each with their own drink. But within fifteen minutes, Clark had discovered that the church doors were open. It seemed wrong. So, so very wrong. That's what made it fun. Campbell smirked as people texted their friends, brought more liquor, and rigged up some music. The air was just vibrating with bass and the cheers of about a hundred drunk, high teenagers. It was blasphemous, and oh, they were all loving it.

"Can you imagine the looks on their faces?" Campbell laughed with Elle as he downed another cup of alcohol. "Those stuck up fucks would piss themselves."

Elle answered, but her voice was muffled. Far away. His vision was dimmer around the edges and he felt good; he grabbed Elle by the hand and led her out to where people were dancing. Harry's shitty little pity parties had never appealed to him much, and certainly not the stiff swaying back and forth of school dances with their parent-approved music, but this? This was something new, different. They could do anything and they weren't going to get caught. Not yet. The cats were away, and they were all a bunch of fucking rats ready to play.

At least, that's what Campbell thought, but after people started pouring beers off the second story, Elle retreated into an empty stairway. Campbell followed. A bad idea, in hindsight, but they'd been having a good time. Hadn't they? She had tucked herself into a corner, wiping beer off her skin and wringing it from her hair; Campbell stepped closer, smiling.

"I don't know, I think you look kinda hot this way."

Elle didn't look at him. "Yeah, well, I don't really care what anyone else thinks right now."

"Hey. Why are you spoiling all the fun?" Campbell asked. She didn't say anything, just giving him an irritated look. "Is it like a ballerina thing? Act all cold? Is that..."

Without a word, she tried to push past him. Campbell grabbed her arm, but she spun around and fixed him with a glare. "Seriously?"

Campbell blinked. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but she was angry, and he let go of her arm. She kept walking, heading towards the exit. He sighed, mumbling under his breath so she wouldn't hear. "Your loss."

Everything after that was mostly a very long blur, ending in a wall of black. Not something he'd done in a while, getting completely wasted, and not something he was eager to repeat when he woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache. Light hurt, sound hurt. The worst part was that he just barely remembered what happened with Elle.

"Shit," he groaned as his phone blasted him with full brightness. Still, he managed to tap out a text to her. I'm sorry about last night. I'm an asshole and I was drunk. Forgive me? "Send."

It was the best he could do at that second. Campbell dragged himself out of bed, stumbling downstairs where Sam was making breakfast. Sam glanced at him, flipping some bacon. Campbell wanted to gag at the smell, but there was a small stack of toasted Eggo waffles on the counter, and he snagged one of those.

"No parents," Sam signed. "No calls or anything."

Campbell just waved his hand and sunk his face into his arm. He figured. There hadn't been any furious screaming about the state of the church, after all. Sam sat down at the table, and Campbell raised his head enough to watch him for a moment. Now that he was sober, he was back to being able to read people. He could see on Sam's face that Sam was scared. He kept eyeing Campbell, then looking away, and shifting like his body just didn't want to sit still. His body was turned away. Closed off. Insecure. He didn't like being alone with Campbell.

Well, who did anymore, really?

His phone buzzed. He hoped it was Elle, but it was from Harry. Campbell tapped on the notification, and stared at the text. Get to the bridge. NOW.

Sam's phone went off next. "Becca wants me at the bridge outside of town."

Please, a second text read. I'm scared.

Harry had never said that, not in all the years they'd been friends. Campbell stuffed another waffle in his mouth, and threw on his flannel shirt. "Let's go."

It took almost twenty minutes to jog there. Sam kept up, thankfully. Campbell wasn't about to wait around when Harry was reduced to begging. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his stomach more than ever. The closer he got, the more he could see there was a small crowd formed. Cassandra, Allie, Becca, Will. Gordie, Bean, Kelly. Luke, Clark, Grizz, Harry. Helena. Sam went to his friends, who were sitting by the railing of the bridge; Campbell went to Harry, who was crowded around his far with the jocks and Helena.

"What's going on?" Campbell hissed, pulling Harry off to the side. "You look ready to pass the fuck out."

Harry just pointed. Campbell followed the line of sight. Trees. Trees had completely demolished the train tracks leading out of town. They just... ended. Campbell went to turn back to Harry, and noticed the same thing had happened to the road, too. He rubbed his eyes; maybe he was still drunk, or someone had slipped him something. But no. It was like a wall of forest.

Harry spoke, only just audible. "It's like that the whole way around." He was breathing faster, his voice trembling faintly. "We tried the internet, Bean tried to call 911. Nothing. There's no one out there. We're trapped."

Campbell reached out, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned into the touch ever so slightly. Adults and the younger kids, gone. The smell, gone. A natural barrier, cutting them off from every escape route, and they were-- for the moment-- alone. How? He couldn't fathom, but how didn't exactly matter at the moment. What mattered was that this was reality. Somehow, some way, they were going to have to survive it.

They were worse than trapped.

They were completely, truly, screwed.

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