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[ He's not sure that he wants to try audio, right now. Talking is hard. ]

too many fucking people to bury here
where are you

Fuckin--here! I'll come there, I'll be where you are, what's going on!

hotel
just another perso ndead not new
just come to hotel

[ A minute passes, and then another text: ] help me please

[He's already on his way; the follow-up sends him into a sprint. It proves faster, if not hindered a touch by slippery walkways and made intimidating by strange noises and frightening shadows. But the sick feeling in his gut picks up him off the sidewalks when he falls, keeps him from distractions when they sound. He's fast about making it to the hotel, to the room where Ghoul showed him he was holed up, to be banging on the door loudly and trying the handle.] Ghoul? Fun Ghoul, it's me! It's me, I'm here!

[ He doesn't mean to frighten, it's just that he's a little disoriented. Had to bury two people this week. This week? He doesn't know, he keeps losing track of time. The banging on the door actually startles him, and in his daze, he'd not locked the door, so it's wide open.

Party can come in. Ghoul's just sitting on the bed, very slowly trying to get his bloodstained boots off of his feet. Bloodstained everything, hands, a little on his face, over his tattoos on his arms from after he'd pushed the sleeves of his bright yellow sweatshirt up, his jeans. All of it's splattered. ]

[It's alright; the second he falls into the room, he gets it. The fear's gone and the franticness, leaving just a little bit of nervousness that that blood might be Ghoul's. The way he moves though, the fact that he's still upright speak well on that front.

[In that comfort, Party approaches sure and quiet.] Okay. Okay, Ghoul, I got you. [His hands run down Ghoul's arms till he can carefully grab his wrists and fold them into Ghoul's lap. He can unlace these shoes.] It's alright. You're okay. You're gonna be fine. [The boots come off carefully, but Party doesn't pay much attention where they fall. His attention goes to hiking up that sweatshirt, rubbing the blood off Ghoul's arms with it before dropping that too.] I got you.

[His fingers hooking into Ghoul's belt, tugging it open gently, get out of these pants.] You got a change set? Where you keep it, G?

[ Ghoul just lets him do whatever, staring at the floor. He's mostly just tired. He could be frantic, but he's not. Just exhausted, just wanting his crew here with him, just wanting to know that Party isn't dead too. ]

In my bag. [ He tells Party, dully. ] I'm fine. S'not my blood. [ You're gonna be fine, Party says, and Ghoul knows he will. Just need a little bit of alcohol. A pick-me-up, after Party's gone. ] ... Stained my boots. S'not gonna come out. I've got his blood all - all over me. All over.

Yeah, you do. [He agrees in a hum. While he looks for the bag, he sheds his own outer layers and shoves them in a corner.] Don't worry aboutcher boots, Ghoulie. They seen worse, we'll take care of it. Wantcha to--take some deep breathes, I'm gonna take care'a you.

You got runnin water? [Clothes bag in hand, he checks the door to the little bathroom, flicks on the lights--] Shit. [A full bathroom. Shower and everything. He peeks back out at Ghoul (blood everywhere), and ducks inside to crank the showerhead on. It begins to steam quickly in the cold room.]

Hey. Hey, c'mere. [Careful fingers ply the hem of Ghoul's t-shirt and lift that up too, move to undo his pants and slip them off.] C'mon, there's water. Fuckin--hot water, let's get you clean.

Edited 2014-01-16 03:05 (UTC)

[ Deep breaths, deep -- he can try, anyway. It's a little easier now that he's not alone. That was what was getting at him. People die. People die here, but there's no way to know if they're coming back. TJ didn't.

But Party is taking care of him, and Ghoul only zones back in when he feels Party's hands at his pants. That gets him to jolt slightly, smacking at Party's hands just out of pure instinct -- and then he's pulling his hands back to his face, scrubbing at it violently. Blood's dry, it's not on his face. ]

Sorry - sorry. [ He exhales, slipping the rest of the way out of his jeans and immediately starting to shiver. ] Fuck, ahah.

G-- [Lucky he loves you, otherwise that rudeness would go right to his heart! But soreness about being pushed away disappears when Ghoul starts shaking. Party peels his gloves off, and then his hands are warm at Ghoul's elbows, running up and over his shoulders. Come on close, Party's warm through his t-shirt, solid, he's got you.] Jittery fucker tonight, huh? Look, I ain't tryin shit. Come on, let's go. Let's go, G.

[The bathroom is fogged, warmer when Party eases the door shut to keep the steam in. One hand reaches out to be sure the thing isn't scalding, and he turns up the cool water a little bit.] Alright, come on in. Nice an' easy, huh? [His hand curls securely around Ghoul's. The other takes his elbow. Ease in, just get under the water.]

[ It's warmer here, against Party's shirt and in the bathroom and in a place where he knows he's safe. Taken care of. There's nothing that's going to hurt him here, right, just Party and warm water and a quiet, fogged up bathroom. Breathe.

Ghoul lets Party lead him into the water, shivering slowly coming to a stop. He'll get in the water, but he needs to hold onto Party's hand. Please don't go anywhere. Pull yourself together, Ghoul, get your head on straight. He's seen a lot of death, home and here, but he will not ever get used to someone literally dying in his arms.

His breath stutters at the thought. Doesn't quite recover. ] Wasn't even th-that -- that bad, I seen. Worse, I seen people die worse. I seen worse. [ Can't get his head focused. ]

[Party holds onto his hand, laces their fingers together. He's going nowhere. But he stays this side of the tub, dry except for his arms and where the shower catches his hair as he bows forward to rub at the blood, help the water chase it away.] It was Matt Miller?

[ There's probably a lot of it in his hair. He couldn't stop running his hands through it. ] Mmhm. [ Ghoul says, holding onto Party tightly. ] I said sorry. I told him sorry but he died anyway. I was supposed to save him.

[ His breath hitches as he stares down at the water. ] Please don't die. Please don't.

Got no plans on it, Fun Ghoul. [A lot of it in his hair. It's running pink down his back. Sighing low, Party slips a hand up to stroke through the back of Jesse's hair. Straighten it out. Get it clean.] Not if you stay with me. Understand?

M'goin nowhere. [His palm rests at Ghoul's neck. Party bows to kiss his shoulder.] This ain't you. I promise.

[ Kisses his shoulder, and Ghoul turns and yanks at him, come here, he's soaked, he knows, but he feels safest when he can bury his face against Party's neck. He doesn't want to say anymore, he just wants something else. A distraction, maybe.

This ain't you. Ghoul stutters out another breath and holding on. Admits, voice cracking: ] I dunno what's me anymore.

[It almost topples him over, but his hands plant around Ghoul's waist to steady himself. He takes a knee on the edge of the tub. Eyes down, just past Ghoul's arm, he can see water swirling red.] I am.

[Hands are slow along Ghoul's back, showing him where his own lines are, where he exists. Party turns to promise quietly in his ear:] I ain't losing you. I'll be you, f'you want. You can follow me back. I know the way.

[Ghoul closes his eyes, away from the red water. Listens, and feels, lets Party run his hands along his skin. It's familiar and Ghoul's practically ached to have this back again, so to have it is a relief. Okay. Party knows him better than anybody, so he trusts the other 'joy to lead him back.

Something swells in his chest, threatens to burst, and Ghoul sucks in a sharp noise, half a sob, before pulling back, taking Party's face in his hands and kissing him, passionate, insistent. Show him the way back.]

[They've seen it all before, between them both. So he knows. It's not a want, it's a need, he knows Ghoul enough by now. Party mimics the touch, fingers tracing up around Ghoul's face but moving further, shifting to tangle in his soaked hair and pull there. Not to hurt, he can't do that, not just now. But he's there.

[His knee on the edge of the tub lifts and unfolds; he plants a foot in the tub. Keep the kiss steady, ease Ghoul open, make sure he feels it against his lips and all through his head and hands, push him back into the stall.]

[This is really what he wants. What he has wanted, and he's gotten close in the past, but - never this much. Not sober. Ghoul shudders out a little hurt noise when Party gets his fingers in his hair, but it's okay. Just knee-jerk. Ghoul lets his hands drop down to hold onto Party's shirt instead, getting him all wet and just not... caring.

It's definitely a need and he's incredibly relieved that Party knows him well enough to let him do this. There's a part of him that aches for more, for something past this, but that hurts too much to think about. So he doesn't. Just kisses back, intense and a little frantic to counteract the steadiness in the way that Party's got him.]

[Intense is alright. Frantic is alright. Ghoul can feel it, and Party will suck it out of him. Wet is alright, even inconsequential as Party steps up into the tub, easing Ghoul towards the wall. The spray hits them both now, and it's a few seconds before his entire right side is soaked, but what does it matter?]

Hang onto me. [He whispers against Ghoul's mouth, nosing at him, biting softly at his lips.] You're right here with me. C'mon, you can feel me. [Palms drag down Ghoul's arms, show him where he can hang on, around Party's shoulders, at his waist.]

[An anchor. It's all an anchor, and Ghoul doesn't hesitate. He goes right for holding on, hands trembling slightly as he grabs at Party's waist, a little more roughly than he intends. Calm down. Calm down, it's okay - Party's got him, talking to him, and Ghoul breathes unsteadily against Party's lips. Panicking. He's been in a state of short breath for a while, goes in and out of getting worse.

The grip on Party helps.] M'splintering. All the pieces are falling off. [Ghoul mumbles, voice weak. It's about all he can manage for now, other than a quiet little whisper of Party's name. His head's not all the way here. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the dog ripping into Matt and it just makes his breathing skip.]

Come away. [He's falling apart. Party closes his own eyes, mouth open carefully over Ghoul's, catching his stuttered breath. It's scary. He's got it.] You don't gotta be here. C'mon, come away. Remember the sun?

[Don't think about it. Don't think about it right now, just get your body back. Party's hands run over his chest and neck, pressure deeper, slower. Relax.] Sun's out. Sun's out an' the radio's on. No talkin, no emergency, just music. What're you listenin to? Whattayou hear, G?

[What are you listening to? Ghoul slowly settles into the touch, letting Party work him through it. Remember the sun? Remember the sand and the heat of the dry, desert air, the feeling of being in the trans am with all of them, all five, windows down and shouting along with the music. No emergencies, just them, just...

Ghoul brings his arms up and wraps them around Party's shoulders, pulling him close, body to body pressed together.] Somethin' old. Somethin' - s-somethin' Jet likes. The folksy guitar stuff. [ It reminds him of Jet, who is soothing in turn. ]

You like that Johnny Cash shit? [He laughs airily, giving a thin smile.] Don't take yer guns t'town, son, leave yer guns at home?

[Ghoul feels smaller without his layers. Party leans obligingly against him, arms wrapping around his waist. Seems for a second like they'll go around twice.] You hear Kobra, he can go low like Johnny can. Real deep voice, when he wants, right? It's just us. You think about it, just us around here. Nothing else.

[Think about it. Sink in it a while. Party sighs, kisses Ghoul on the cheek before settling back between his lips. Sink. Take it easy. Just them, right here.]

[He does. He thinks about it, he soaks in the memory of just them. Breathes in, breathes out, and slowly lets himself be pulled back together. It's not anything stable - he knows there's going to be issues, that the stitch work is shoddy, but for now, it works. It's a long fifteen minutes.

When his breathing is even, when he's gotten his head back, he sighs, slow, and rests his head on Party's shoulder. All that - all his panic, all his hurt, the intensity of it - it's made him exhausted.

He's quiet, for a long few moments. Then:] D'you - think this is hell?

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