snowblindrpg | [log] justin! he's punching all my blood out! [closed]

Mm. Yeah.

[Touché.]

[ He pulls his blanket closer, resting his head against the wall. He's tired, but he knows he can't sleep tonight. Frustrating. He hasn't slept well since he got here. ]

Just thought you should know someone hates you enough to have you killed. [ You know, like they're discussing the weather. ]

Thanks, mate.

[He knew it already, but that's not the point here.]

[ Mate. Huh. There's a pause, and then Royce grunts before going quiet again. ]

[So does Alfie. If they sit like that for long enough, he'll start to drift off, arm cradled against his stomach as he leans against the wall. His breathing never quite evens out to normal sleep-breathing - it's just a little bit more labored than it should be.]

[ Royce doesn't mean to fall asleep, but somewhere in the early hours of the morning, he just can't stay awake any longer. He practically passes out, curled sitting up against the wall, and sleeps for a good couple of hours.

And when he wakes up, he's groggy. Groggy, and disoriented, and... trying to figure out who the hell he even is. Where's... Alfie, Alfie should be nearby. Right?

He mumbles something that sounds like Alfie's name as he wakes up, shivering and way more cold than normal. ]

[Alfie's in much the same position. He's slumped over a little more, and he has a few blankets spread out over himself, but he'd never ended up blowing up the air mattress or making a proper bed. He doesn't wake, even when Royce says his name. He's doing quite a bit of shivering himself.]

[ He's so tired. He should just go back to sleep. There's no reason to...

And Royce jolts, awake, as he remembers. He remembers - he cut Alfie, he hurt Karkat, and he accepted a job from House. He was fresh from Manzant. He put up a post that made him look like an idiot, he's sure. Fuck, but that isn't that most important thing. The most important thing is Alfie.

Royce pulls himself up, shivering violently as he crosses the room to where Alfie's sitting, circles under his eyes more like bruises than anything. He can't remember any of them, but he's reasonably sure he had nightmares for the time he slept. The feeling lingers as he drops down in front of Alfie, reaching for his arm to look it over. ]

[The moment Royce touches his arm, Alfie jerks awake with a snort, his other hand reaching out lightning quick to grab Royce's wrist. Once he gets a look at Royce's face, though, his grip relaxes.]

M'all right.

[ Royce takes the grip on his wrist with a jump and a grimace, but he doesn't fight back. After a moment, he tugs free gently so that he can try to look over Alfie's arm, see how bad it's gotten in the night.

He doesn't say anything yet, but his expression is tight and upset. ]

[It's not infected, at least not yet, but the bandage does need to be changed.]

Remember what I said.

[Alfie finds his hand again, squeezing it this time.]

I'm sorry. [ He says, in a tone that matches his expression. He shifts so he can start going through Alfie's bag, trying to find more strips of cloth. The least he can do is change Alfie's bandages for him. ]

I know. But I don't blame you.

[He closes his eyes, settling back against the wall.]

I know you don't. Hold on.

[ Royce mutters, and he goes to get his bag. He's got supplies - things he's not had to use because Alfie's had so much. He's got a first aid kit, and he's got tylenol, and he intends on getting Alfie to use both. When he comes back, he settles down in front of Alfie and carefully unwraps his arm in order to see the damage, and to treat it. ]

[Alfie doesn't protest, and he gives over his arm readily.]

Found enough cloth in mine? I can tear up some more if we need it.

Mm. I have some. I have plenty. Let me do it.

[ Let him try to make up for this. It's not enough, but it's a start. Quietly, he starts to clean the wound, disinfecting it. ]

I want you to take the pain medication I have. Please.

[He hisses when the disinfectant touches his skin, but doesn't pull back.]

I think we should save it.

No. Don't argue with me about this. [ His voice is tight, like he's only just barely keeping it steady. ] I've been holding onto it for months. I want you to just take two of them, I have a whole bottle that's unused.

Please. [ This is the second please in minutes, and his voice cracks at the very end of it. It's important enough for him to say please, okay, he needs this. ]

[Alfie puts his hand on the back of Royce's neck, pulling him in close. Resting their foreheads together.]

Just two. It's a cut, that's all; it doesn't hurt so much.

[It's a huge, deep cut, and it hurts a lot, but it's by no means the most pain he's been in.]

[ Royce swallows hard, resting their foreheads together. He keeps his eyes closed for a long moment, settling himself down, making sure the burning behind his eyes stays just burning. ]

I need you to take care of yourself or I can't stay with you. [ Royce says, wavering. ] Alright? Same as you. I'm not going to watch you suffer.

Okay.

[He pats Royce's cheek.]

I promise you, I'm taking care of myself. Just thinking we might do well to save most of the pills for-- well. Worse things.

Anything worse than this is going to end with you dead, Alfie.

[ Deep breath. He pulls away, and goes back to cleaning the wound along Alfie's arm, trying to judge if he should stitch it or not. He's got a sewing kit, but...

His eyes are a little wet but he's steadfastly ignoring that. It's half because he's angry at himself, and half because he's exhausted - it's harder to keep back emotions that are this strong. The MN poisoning seems to be a little slow to kick back in, as well. ]

I've patched myself up. I've been cleaning the wound.

[The wound which could probably do with some stitches, honestly. It could go either way, but stitches would make it harder for it to rip open and start bleeding again.]

I promise you, Royce, that I do not want to die from this or anything else.

[ He stops cleaning for a moment, and then digs around in his bag again. He pulls out a bottle of red wine, and presses it into Alfie's good hand. ]

I need to stitch this. [ Royce mutters. Businesslike. He feels better doing something. Anything. ] And it's going to hurt.

[Alfie takes a sharp breath in, and nods.]

Let's set up the mattress first. Get me on it.

[He just hadn't had the energy to do it himself.]

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