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Oho, no.

[He knows. Ghoul knows. They've been here a million times too--defensive, sneaky, lying--just never been here in hell. Party shakes his head.] We're not doing this here.

I ain't doing anything. Leave it, Party Poison. [Full name, a defense mechanism, like bright and toxic warning colors.] Don't start.

[It's already started.] Where you getting it from? From fucking--Glen and M--What else are you on?

Nothing - it weren't them. [Ghoul pushes at Party, trying to get out from under him, off the bed.] I stole it. S'mine. S'my decision, so leave it.

No-- [Not always stronger or faster, but he has the advantage here. Ghoul tries to squirm away, and Party's hands cuff around his upper arms. Shifting one leg over his waist to pin him down, Party shoves him back down against the mattress.] --don't run away from me. Don't. You can't do this again, not here, not anywhere! Fucking shitting up yer own veins when you can walk out the door and die, what's wrong with you?!

[Immediately, Ghoul's trying to kick Party off - he's not okay with being held down, not like this. Makes him panic.] It don't matter. You come back, everybody comes back, death don't matter! [But it does, it really does, and no, not everybody comes back. His breath stutters again.] Could throw myself off a building and who would care - you? Just you.

S'cheap. We come back, and s'like it never even happened. It don't got a reason, it don't even need a cause, it just happens, sometimes, you sleep and you wake up a week later in a fucking grave.

It don't matter here, it's suicide t'care, here, so I don't.

Well you better fucking start! [Hold still, just hold still, he twists into Ghoul's hair, not sweet or anything just fucking stop--] I'd care, is that not fucking enough?

[The hair is what makes him stop, go still.] I -- [He starts, and then stops himself. Breathes, for a second. Quietly:] It - it should be.

[Party stills above him, too, Ghoul doesn't have to lift a fucking finger.] It--sure.

[Not even gradual, the grip is gone, the touch is gone, and he's pressing back against the wall.] Sure, cuz if it's upset you it matters, huh? Don't die, like a fuckin puppy, don't die, Party Poison, but if it fucking matters to me--

[No, Party's right, and Ghoul thinks - you've ruined everything else. Push it. Keeping pushing, keep expanding, but he's not sure he can take Party leaving him too. He sucks in a shivering breath, and turns on his side, pulls himself up.]

M'an asshole. [Ghoul tells him, tired.] I don't say the right shit and I don't act how I oughta, and it ain't - an excuse, it ain't. [He very carefully reaches for Party's foot, figuring that's safeish.]

S'just I could never imagine me matterin' as much s'you. M'sorry.

[Jaw clenched, lip curled, eyes steely at Ghoul's hand and hands dug into his sides:] You're not sorry. F'yer sorry, fucking prove it.

How? [He asks, quietly.] How d'you want me to?

I want you sober.

[His grip tightens.] ... Okay. Alright.

Don't lie to me. [He warns fiercely, but his knees give and relax. He leans forward to brush his palms up Ghoul's wrist.] If you lie to me, I'm gonna lose it, G. If you go, I go, if you topple off, I'm jumping after you, so you better not fucking lie to me.

[Ghoul drags in a breath.] I said okay. [He keeps his grip.] Can't do it right off. I can't. Gotta work myself off of it, I can't -- do the cold turkey shit again, not here.

[He hums:] Don't snap at me. [But settles his hands more surely on Ghoul's arm, in the front of his sweatshirt.] ...Alright. Alright, I didn't mean to get mad. I didn't mean it. C'mere.

[Ghoul curls closer almost immediately, hiding his face in Party's chest. It makes it easier to lie if he doesn't have to look Party in the face.] M'sorry. M'sorry, this place - this place's hard. S'fucking me over.

[With Ghoul against his chest, it's easier to get a good, indiscreet look around the room. Living in one place for so long, he's gotta have hiding spots. Party will have to come back.] Fuck it back. [He mutters and finds the place he was at before--the comforting place, where the touch at Ghoul's back is meant to soothe, where he's soft and quiet again. Tomorrow they can figure out steps. Later he can try to weasel out stash. Tonight is too hard.]

I don't--whattayou need? And not a fight, I'm not fuckin fighting you. Why doncha lie flat, I'll rub you down.

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