[The Red Roof Inn is a lonely and forsaken place where dreams go to die tonight. They'll rise from the ashes more resilient than ever... hopefully. Right now there are just heaps of ashes, and a bedside table steadily being reduced to splinters with a swiss army knife.

L alternates between sweats and chills. When he hears that knock, he's in a chill phase, with two blankets wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He pulls himself across the floor, pulling the door open just a crack.]

Can you... just set them on the floor, maybe...