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 Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 4:33 pm
A knock sounded outside of Otto's door a day after everything had happened.
"Otto? Hey, it's Gale. You in, mate?"
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 4:48 pm
The door was answered, somehow he'd heard Gale over the loud crashing of a disaster movie blaring on his TV. Otto looked like Hell. His hair was a bird's nest of knots. His eyes were red and baggy. His pyjamas were wrinkled as askew as if he'd been.. well sleeping in them. And not changing out of them. He also smelled of alcohol. "Oh.. hey.." He drawled, unsteady on his feet.
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Posted: Thu Apr 17, 2014 8:40 pm
Gale had expected to see Otto behind the door.
This was not Otto. This was some terrible parody of Otto Graves; a bone thin, pale faced, disheveled, red-eyed, alcohol stinking imitation of the person who perhaps once had been Otto Graves, but no longer was. There was no light teasing in the pale eyes that now stared at him dully, no scowl or mocking expression on the wan face.
Gale stared at him, and then slowly closed his mouth, exhaling a short breath.
"Come on," he said, not unkindly, and gently but firmly took ahold of Otto's arm, pulling him into the room, in the direction of the adjoining bathroom of the other's suite. "We've gotta you cleaned up, mate."
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Posted: Fri Apr 18, 2014 4:09 am
Everyone kept wanting to make him clean again. Maybe he liked being filthy. Maybe he wanted to waste away. What would being clean and put together do for him anyway? But none of his friends would let him. Any of them who caught him here, most of them insisted he clean himself up. He didn't have the energy or will to protest. He'd just do as they asked. It was easier this way. Otto followed along, breathing out a tired, depressing sigh.
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Posted: Fri Apr 18, 2014 6:32 pm
Gale was nothing if not stubborn, and he carefully led Otto into the washroom, turning on the sink and dousing a towel beneath the stream to dampen it. Gesturing for Otto to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, Gale began carefully rubbing at the tangled strands of Otto's hair.
"When was the last time you ate?" he asked quietly. "I mean, real food, not alcohol."
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Posted: Fri Apr 18, 2014 8:38 pm
Otto sat down, too tired and unsteady to do much else. "I had a chip a few hours ago." He drawled, gently swaying in place. "Like... an American chip. I heard British people call french fries chips.. is that true? Kinda dumb, man... whaddya call yer chip-chips?" Still swaying, his eyes unfocused and mind gone.
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Posted: Fri Apr 18, 2014 9:03 pm
"That's because they are chips," said Gale lightly, scrubbing Otto's head the way a mother hen would have. He finally got the unruly strands to settle back down (sort of), and then disappeared briefly into the other room. He came back a moment later with a teeshirt, having clearly rummaged through Otto's clothing.
"Here," he said. "Put this on. And we call them crisps."
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 6:24 am
Gale was so full of s**t. Chips were chips. Fries were fries. Duh. It was so obvious. Little British boys were just so silly. Making up their own rules. Otto stared blankly until Gale came back. He lightly grabbed the offered shirt, pulling off his own clumsily. "Why would you make up new names for s**t that's already got names..." He grumbled drunkenly, changing into the clean tee shirt.
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Posted: Sat Apr 19, 2014 8:31 pm
"Because the UK is a terrible, terrible place where we like to confuse Americans by making up words to things that have already got words because we're just that terrible," said Gale offhandedly as he took the dirty shirt and tossed it aside. "I'd make you change your trousers too, but that seems a bit excessive."
Instead, he took ahold of Otto's arm and gently but firmly steered him out of the bathroom and back out into the living room. He made his way over to the sink, found a cup, and filled it with water, and then crossed back over to Otto.
"Here," he said. "Drink this. You smell like a brewery."
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Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2014 7:16 am
"I knew it." He finally got Gale to admit he was born of the land of terrible things. He'd have to take note of this momentous occasion. However, his voice just didn't seem to come out as smug as he wanted it too. It remained flat and unhappy. His pants were given a once over. Meh, they were in one piece. Maybe he'd et properly dressed some other time. He had no one to impress anymore. Why bother? The teen wandered back into the living room as Gale gently pulled him along. The water was given a long stare. He eventually took it. "Oh.." He remarked as if he hadn't know he reeked of booze. He chugged the water back, until the entire glass was gone, handing it right back to the Brit. Problem fixed, he assumed.
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Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2014 9:01 am
Gale watched Otto carefully and then took the empty water glass, setting it aside. He leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees, and linked his fingers together, head tilted slightly. There was a small frown on his face.
In spite of all they'd been through, it was the very fact that they'd been through things together that made him want to help Otto now, after everything that had happened. He couldn't do much to lift the pain; it was there, raw and terrible and bleeding through to the outside with no way to stem the flow.
"I know you'll get tired of hearing this," said Gale quietly, "But I mean it. I'm so sorry, Otto."
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Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2014 9:32 am
Otto managed to meet Gale's eyes for a moment, hurt blue eyes that were raw with loss. "Thanks, Gale.." he murmured back, gaze drifting back down to his knees. Otto was able to survive through this because he had these amazing friends. Friends he hadn't even realized he'd made. He was loved, and he was being cared for despite his mood. They loved him, though he couldn't begin to understand why. He would never fully heal, but the fact remained he would recover. He knew he would eventually. He would never be like Clerise, who decided she was as good as dead because she lost that one special person. He loved Nevada, and he wanted her with him, but he knew that so many other people were here. Alive. Right now. They were his dearest friends and allies, and he would not die until every last one of them was gone.
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Posted: Sun Apr 20, 2014 10:04 pm
He wanted to say that he understood - and he did, in a way. After all, he'd lost Leslie, though circumstances had been different. He'd grown up with Leslie, spent all of his time with her, and now she had been torn away from him; laid to an eternal rest in a place that had first taken him away from her and then her away from him.
But it was also not the same, and he knew it; he still had Stormy (in a way), and Otto no longer had Nevada.
Gale stretched out his hand, and though it was little comfort, he gently squeezed Otto's upper arm before letting it drop away again, folding his hands back together in his lap.
"Do you need anything?" he asked. "Do you want anything that I can help you with? If you want, I can stay here and let you mock me about how British I am," he added with a gentle smile.
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 7:58 am
Otto managed a small and brief wry smile. "That's only fun when I'm happy." Which meant that in all his teasing, he'd actually been happy when he talked to Gale. "It's okay.. I don't really need anything." He didn't know how to fix it. How to heal. How to move on. He missed holding her, threading his fingers through her lovely hair. Missed sleeping beside her, waking up with her. That's all he wanted was her again. He could never have it. Never see her smile. Her smile... Otto reached over to the coffee table, opening his phone. He'd set the background as a picture of himself and Nevada on their very first date, even back before he'd dated Eva. Nevada had both eyes. She was smiling. Otto was sticking his tongue out at the camera. They were happy. Healthy. It warmed his heart to see her face, even if only in a picture.
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Posted: Mon Apr 21, 2014 9:28 pm
The smile was brief, but it was there. Gale gave one back to Otto, idly twisting Jinhai's ring on his finger as Otto fumbled for his phone, flipping it open. Gale didn't want to intrude, but he flicked his gaze towards the screen and the picture set as the background.
A time when they had been happy. A moment caught, captured forever.
He didn't want to say anything cheap or unfeeling, such as you'll move on or it'll be okay because sometimes no matter how much a person tried, it wouldn't ever be okay. Manageable, perhaps, but okay was such a subjective term.
"You look happy," said Gale softly.
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