snowblindrpg | [log] how deep are we gonna go with this?

[ Somewhere, Royce realizes that it's kind of sad that just this much sounds like luxury, but. He'll take what they can get. ]

We should go soon. [ Royce murmurs. He's already squirming. He needs to check the windows and doors before they leave, just to make sure. ]

Ten more minutes.

[Bargaining time.]

[ Royce snorts. Carefully, he starts to try and dislodge himself. ]

You rest for ten more minutes and I'll go check the house one last time.

Mm.

[Good plan. He closes his eyes and settles down further into the blankets.]

[ Royce pulls himself up, and does in fact go to check the rest of the store. There's not a lot here, nothing worth taking, but it isn't just about searching for items. He carefully looks over the windows and doors for traps, for triggers, for cameras, even. He doesn't find anything. It reassures him a little, but he still feels like he's missing something.

Ten minutes pass, and Royce makes his way back to the blanket nest, crouching down in front of it. He's tired and cold, but they need to move. They can camp at the hotel for a few days if they really need to. ]

Come on. [ Royce murmurs, reaching to shake Alfie's shoulder. ] Have to get up, Solomons. Who knows when I'm going to have motivation like this again.

[And hearing that is, in turn, motivation for Alfie. He eases himself up and starts pulling his things together - not that he'd done much unpacking the night before.]

Over a year, mm? Funny thing.

[And yet, it seems to make more and more sense by the minute.]

Yeah. Seems like it's almost been even longer than that. [ He squeezes Alfie's shoulder. ] I know how this sounds, but. It's good to have you here.

[ He wishes they could both go home, but if they can't, at least he has Alfie. ]

Yeah.

[Standing now, his coat on and his bags shouldered, he leans into Royce.]

I'll never leave you, mate.

[ That actually makes Royce pause. Because - yes, he knows, by this point. But Alfie says it, straight up, no strings attached, point blank. Over a year and Alfie still manages to surprise Royce.

After a moment, Royce turns a little into Alfie's lean, hugging him. It's a bit awkward with all the bags and things, but he makes it work. ]

Okay. [ It's very soft. ] I wasn't planning on leaving you, either.

I know.

[Alfie presses his face down against the top of Royce's head and shrugs the straps of his bag into the crooks of his elbows, so he's free to hug back.]

And I'm glad I've got you, too.

[ Royce will just... stay there for a while. A few minutes. It's scary sometimes how much he needs this. For those few minutes, he takes advantage of the comfort, the reassurance, and then finally he pulls away. Reluctantly.

Alfie's warm and safe. Royce wishes he knew how much. ]

Alright. Into the snow. [ Royce says after a moment, adjusting his own bags. ]

[Into the snow and to the hotel they go. And the next day, when they wake up, Alfie is an eighty-year old man.

He sees nothing strange about this. He's been in Norfinbury for almost half his life by this point, after all. Waking up in the body of an elderly, broken man isn't new for him. And as usual, he doesn't get up immediately. He shifts closer to Royce, and tries to catch a few more minutes of sleep.]

[ Royce sees nothing strange about this either. When Alfie stirs, Royce just pulls him closer, curling up into the blankets with a soft little sound of discontent. He settles after a moment, still mostly asleep, wrapped around Alfie as the big spoon.

Royce hasn't gotten any younger, sure, but physically, he hasn't gotten much older, either. He's similar to the way he's always looked, though his hair is short and has a few significant streaks of grey through it. Maybe there's a few more wrinkles than before. But he's a hundred, and he only just barely looks middle-aged.

He doesn't bother moving. They have nowhere to be. Nowhere to go. They can sleep as long as they want to. ]

[Somewhere along the line, Royce had switched to being the big spoon more often than not - Alfie's all but withered away. He'd been too skinny before, but now he's practically skeletal (though he doesn't eat any less than he'd used to), and he's lost a good six inches from his height. He can't wrap Royce up so easily anymore.]

Awake?

[He says it very quietly, not wanting to disturb him if he isn't.]

Mmhm. [ Royce hums, not opening his eyes. He pats carefully at Alfie's arm, almost absently. He worries. Consistently. It's a constant thought at the back of his mind - will Alfie wake up the next morning? He's never sure. ]

I'm awake.

I wonder what day of the week it is.

[He does this sometimes, always either very early in the morning or very late at night. Is it the Sabbath? A workday? A holiday?

What would he be doing if he were at home?]

[ Royce noses at him. ]

What day do you want it to be?

Saturday. I'd like it to be Saturday.

Then it's Saturday. [ Royce tells him. ] Saturday and -- [ A pause, and he's a little more somber. ] And your birthday.

My birthday? Really?

[He shifts so he can see Royce's face, trying to tell if he's serious or not.]

I haven't been keeping track.

[ He's serious. Unfortunately. He closes his eyes again. ]

Mm. I keep track. [ Meticulously. ] Eighty-one. You've had a lot of them.

Eighty-one? Well, that's not so old.

[ A long pause. ]

Still older than me, anyway. [ He's trying to make a joke out of it. Trying. ]

Nah.

[He kisses Royce on the cheek.]

You've got to be a thousand by now.

I feel a thousand. [ Royce says, pulling the blankets closer around them. The kiss on the cheek just makes him smile a little. ] Bones and joints are as creaky as yours.

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