A short, slightly depressing Gary, POV. A long day, and Gary is frustrated.

Spoilers: Duck Day Afternoon

I don't own Gary or anybody else, they all belong to CBS and Sony TriStar.

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My Name Is
by Ally McKnight

Hi, my name is Gary Hobson.

A simple name, heck, I like the name. Gary Hobson. Has a nice ring to it.

You may think I'm a doctor, or a baseball player, maybe you think I'm an idiot. Maybe if you saw me walking down the street, you'd spit at me, and wonder why I'm there.

But beyond my name, there's more to me. Stuff that nobody sees. The hurt, the pain, the suffering.. the depression. All of it's there, but nobody notices.

Nobody, besides Marissa. She always know when something's wrong, and she knows now. That's why I have to try and avoid her.

What really bugs me is, nobody bothers to even try and understand me except for her. I'm just the lunatic with the damn hero complex. Everyone I've saved, all the countless faces, what do they know about me? Nothing. Because they don't care. Nobody but Mom, Dad, Marissa, and sometimes Chuck.

The problem with Chuck is, he doesn't want to talk about feelings. We're guys, you know, have to keep up the macho act. We end up talking about sports, or the paper, while my insides are screaming at me to say more than that. Chuck wouldn't understand what I'm going through. He's never been really hurt like I have. He's my best friend, but still, he doesn't know me.

Then there's Mom and Dad. They're great, and I love them. Trouble is, I can't talk to them either. I just get flustered, and I can never say what I want to. Mom is really overprotective, and would probably just send me to some quack, and Dad's not really comfortable talking about anything that's not strictly lighthearted, and would probably just make jokes. Us Hobson were never good at talking about feelings. That sorta explains the psychiatrist session in the hostage situation.

They try, they really do, but Mom and Dad just can't understand me sometimes. As a kid, they'd help me with every little problem, even if I didn't want them to. But my problem is bigger than a bad grade in math, or falling asleep in history class. It's bigger than all of that. I could never tell them the things I feel. That would just freak them out too much, and I really don't want to end up lying on a leather couch, talking to some quack, who'd think I was a lunatic.

Last, there's Marissa. I am all to blame for not being able to talk to her. I guess I put barriers up between us. I'm just so uncomfortable saying, I'm scared, or I'm sad, or I'm depressed. Mostly, because Marissa can see right through everything, and know what I'm feeling. More than anyone else can, and that scares me. I just don't want to open up to her. She's always
right, and I'm afraid of what she might say to me.

Marissa know something's up with me, but it's not like I can tell her. I wish I could, I really do. I love Marissa, she's like the sister I never had. I can talk to her about the paper, I can talk to her about the ungrateful people, but for some reason I'm too big of a chicken to open up to her.

I used to be somebody important. In high school, I was Prom King, and I dated the prettiest girl in school. I never had time to feel anything, I was too busy going to parties. Now I'm just a regular joe, sipping a beer, and watching a Bears game. Nothing special, nothing different, nobody cares if they know me or not.

Nobody sees what's really going on. Armstrong, he sees an eccentric guy with a hero complex. Miguel, he sees an award winning newspaper piece, Brigatti? She sees a big question mark. Mom sees a skinny guy who certainly has been skipping meals, Dad sees, and over serious guy. Chuck see his best buddy, who's changed so much, and Marissa, sees farther than all that. But, nobody sees the broken down, lonely man, hiding behind a stupid newspaper. Nobody sees the silent tears that I
cry. Nobody, not even Marissa.

Hi, my name is Gary Hobson.

And you don't know me.

Email the author: Ally McKnight
 
 

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