“I already hauled myself up this rock on your behalf.” Wade doesn't sound especially put out. Or put off. He does look to the end of the bridge, gauging how much more there is to go.
“But all right. Provided there is water in our collective future, because speech is about to elude me entirely.”
"Down this way, darling," Trouble says lightly, walking towards a sign in a
language that Wade would have no way to understand and Trouble could only
really guess at.
Still, the illustrations of bottles and plates speak for themselves.
He trails after, mindful of the tail and taking note of the sign. Touching his fingertips to the wall until the swaying sensation of the bridge dissipates. He doesn't talk—doesn't see much need for it, and he wasn't lying about his tongue all but shriveling up.
Double Trouble steps into the kind of saloon where the arrival of a
stranger would probably cause all conversation to dry up and the pianist to
stop dead mid-chord, if only there was a piano in here.
There isn't. But there's water, and they very kindly pour two large mugs.
His first swallow's deep—his eyes close, briefly, and he wipes his mouth with the back of one hand. “Thank you.” Wade finds a wall to lean against, the rock cool at his back. Runs a hand through his hair, rendering it neither more nor less presentable, just messy in several new directions.
“I don't know if you're looking for the unabridged version, here, but the short of it is—I betrayed the trust of somebody dear to me,” he says, slow and measured. His eyes are on Double Trouble—fixed there. “I sold her out. Right after that I came here.”
He looks suddenly tired, as though the intervening time—days and nights on the barge, the long walk to his car after watching Angela gulp down the pills, the moments of unearned relief—has just crashed over him.
He keeps on thinking of Angela, Angela who'd been so much closer to Crawford—in and out of his house, cozy evenings with the family. And then him. He doesn't have to imagine the feeling, is the hell of it. He's lived with it most of his life.
“Well,” he says. His voice is rough, feels rough in his throat too. “That's me. You're up.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2020-03-28 04:04 pm (UTC)"Oh, you're still hung up on that," they sigh, like they asked hours rather than minutes ago.
"Why don't we make a deal, darling? You want to know the worst thing I've ever done? You first. Set me a good example."
no subject
Date: 2020-04-06 05:21 pm (UTC)“But all right. Provided there is water in our collective future, because speech is about to elude me entirely.”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-06 09:18 pm (UTC)"Down this way, darling," Trouble says lightly, walking towards a sign in a language that Wade would have no way to understand and Trouble could only really guess at.
Still, the illustrations of bottles and plates speak for themselves.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-07 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-04-07 11:08 pm (UTC)Double Trouble steps into the kind of saloon where the arrival of a stranger would probably cause all conversation to dry up and the pianist to stop dead mid-chord, if only there was a piano in here.
There isn't. But there's water, and they very kindly pour two large mugs.
"Here, darling."
Mammals. So inefficient.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:10 pm (UTC)“I don't know if you're looking for the unabridged version, here, but the short of it is—I betrayed the trust of somebody dear to me,” he says, slow and measured. His eyes are on Double Trouble—fixed there. “I sold her out. Right after that I came here.”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:16 pm (UTC)"Oh."
Trouble blinks slowly, otherwise unmoving. And unmoved.
"Is that all?"
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:46 pm (UTC)“Nobody ever did that to you?”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:48 pm (UTC)They take a long slow sip from their water.
"Of course not, darling."
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:51 pm (UTC)He can guess.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 06:53 pm (UTC)"I choose reliable friends," they tell him, crisply. "That's why."
Hahaha. Friends.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 07:21 pm (UTC)“Well,” he says. His voice is rough, feels rough in his throat too. “That's me. You're up.”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 07:29 pm (UTC)"If you must. I killed someone."
The shrug is verbal rather than physical.
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 07:41 pm (UTC)This shrug is physical, shoulders lifted, palms up.
"I don't know. I needed to get out of an enemy base, and they happened to be in my way."
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 09:02 pm (UTC)“What made it the worst?”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-12 09:09 pm (UTC)"Because I haven't drowned any orphans lately? Murder is a contender for 'worst' in most people's experience, darling."
no subject
Date: 2020-04-21 08:29 pm (UTC)He's much slower in working his way around to asking: “Would you do it again?”
no subject
Date: 2020-04-21 09:00 pm (UTC)Trouble just grins at the first question, because Wade has no idea how right he is.
"...I might. If the need arose."
no subject
Date: 2020-04-28 06:14 pm (UTC)“You wanna walk me through it?” An offer as much as it is a prod.