brotimaeus | [IC Inbox]

Hey Richard. I guess... I don't want to be a pest but if you could bring me some Gatorade and chicken soup, I'd really appreciate it a lot.

Hm? Sure, man. Sure. You still in the same place?

No... no, unfortunately I have to keep moving. I'm at the Red Roof inn near the highway, room 204.

Got it. I'll be on by soon.

[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...

[L looks terrible.

There's really no other way to put it and certainly not way to put it kindly, and Richard's eyebrows shoot up the moment he lays eyes on him.]

Uh.. sure.

[And he does, setting the small plastic bag down carefully near to where the door is cracked open.]

You.. need anythin' else?

[Though all the crack really allows one to see of L is one wide, red-rimmed eye, when he opens it further, just enough to reach out and pull the bag in with an unsteady hand, it's possible to notice the dry, cracked lips, too-pale skin, and maybe, over his shoulder, some of the state of the wholly trashed room.

That hand is also in really good working order, by the way, but there are probably other things that draw Richard's attention more at the moment.]

I...

[His voice breaks off. What he feels the most like he needs is the last thing he's allowed to ask for. The desire is painful and it causes him to grind his aching teeth.]

I'll definitely let you know if I do, Richard, but...

[Just ask. Just ask. YOU HAVE TO AT LEAST ASK. It can all stop if you ask.

He shuffles away from the door in a flurry of uncoordinated movement, and when he returns, he's tossing an already-cracked iPhone 5s into the hotel hallway.]

Maybe hold onto that, for me?

[He still keeps the door open only as much as is absolutely necessary; whatever's going on in the room seems to be something he's ashamed of, that he doesn't want Richard to see.]

[He catches the phone before it hits the ground with a lightning-fast reflex that has him immediately checking up and down the hall to make sure no one but L saw it. It gets tucked safely into his pocket.]

I can do that.

[And yes, he's seen that mess of a room behind the other man.]

That's all? You sure?

[It's almost physically painful to watch that phone get tucked out of sight; it represents Mack not being able to call him, for a little while, at least. And of course it means he can't call Mack, which is something he's been grappling with for the last few hours. Only knowing he's come this far, and not wanting his efforts to go to waste, have stopped him.

There's a long, uncertain pause when Richard asks if it's all, and then, for added torment, if he was sure. At present, L isn't sure about anything, and the delay probably makes it amply clear.]

Richard, I...

[He bites his tongue, torn.]

...Yeah, I'll be fine...

[It does. It makes it so clear and Richard is not so inexperienced that he can accept that what he's seeing is the result of a simple viral infection. He knows better, he's seen that look staring him in the face from his own reflection. Who better knows how to spot the hallmarks of addiction than an addict? He already knows how similar they are in that respect.]

... A'right.

[Does he believe it? Not really.]

But if you need anythin' from me, you give me a call.

[With what? he doesn't say. I just gave you my phone, and the hotel's phone is in pieces in the bathtub.

It means true solitude and it's both exhilarating and terrifying.

Not trusting himself to speak, he gives a brisk nod, pressing the door closed.]

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