hardlydead | (( get them drunk on rose water ))

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(( get them drunk on rose water ))

[ crotus prenn is pretty low on the list of places david opts to go exploring or scavenging, not because of anything to do with the place itself, but its inhabitants are both... territorial. and they both give him the wig in massively different ways. unfortunately it's a great place for gathering a ton of different supplies — medical mostly, but who knows what you'll find if you're willing to root around the carnival — and after returning from a few trips out without much to show for it, david feels like he should give it a proper try. ]

[ it's miserable out here, always is. the chapel smells of burned wood even from a distance and the air is cold and damp and yet somehow stale. david shoves his hands in his jacket pockets with a frown — one part thought, one part deep displeasure at being here, but if they run across a killer he'd rather take his chances with the clown than the nurse. so. chapelside of the realm it is. ]

[ billy's fast and not one to take stupid risks too. it's not why david brought him along, but it's a good bit of security if they get caught out. toss his bag billy's way to make sure the stuff gets back to camp and david'll keep the killer occupied. different stakes, but still more or less the same as in trials. ]

God, I fuckin' hate this place. [ he clicks his flashlight on and off like he doesn't already know it works fine and glances billy's way. ] Start with the church, yeah? Probably not much there if anything, but who knows.

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Yeah. We went when I was a kid. After mom left, just holidays.

[ Neil Hargrove didn't have money like he wanted to have money. He'd blow it on booze and cigarettes and fancy cars, presents for his spurned wife, and then he'd be righteously angry when everything else went to shit. You'd think moving from California to Indiana would have stretched a dollar further, but the front steps at the house on Cherry Street were still chipped, the house squat. But everyone had to assemble for church in their Sunday best. Billy really pushed the envelope the longer his curls grew.

Billy thinks it's all bullshit. But he still wears the St. Christopher's medallion around his neck, even if it didn't help a damn bit when a monster crawled under his skin and took it for a ride. ]

Didn't look like this though. [ Billy pushes a broken piece of plywood with his boot. ] Shithole. [ He stoops near a wall, near the stairs, the wall half-dilapidated. ]

Found some matches. [ He brushes some dust out of the way, fingers brushing over some burlap. He tugs it away and whistles. A line up of bottles, glistening liquid inside. Might be medicine, might be drugs. Billy picks one up, looks at it, and...

tosses it to David. ] Hey, look. Catch.

[ david's never believed in anything, not like that. maybe if church was more than another prop to hold up their social status, but if anything he was kind of cynical about the whole thing. mum in makeup and sunglasses to hide her black eye, singing 'christ the lord is risen today' and he's supposed to believe in a loving god? fuck that. ]

[ he's musing on that as he carefully moves some planks and detritus that've been propped up so he can see if there's anything behind them when billy speaks. turns and catches the bottle and looks at it with a considering frown; the liquid a glistening, warm orange. he swirls the bottle, uncorks it with a satisfying pop! and takes a quick smell. ]

[ it doesn't smell like anything he can put a name to. a frown of thought on david's face. ]

What do you think it is?

[ he takes another whiff. it's... warm? ]

Depends if it's his or hers. What's it smell like? [ The nurse and that clown have different MOs. There's a chance it could be gnarly, there's a chance it's a payday.

There are more behind the wall, tucked into the space under the stairs. A dumping ground. Maybe it's weird shit the nurse is hiding away. Maybe it's something the clown has dumped... or is hiding. He's always working on new, weird shit to throw at them. ]

Think it's an upper or a downer? Maybe Claudette can do something with it. [ Hey, depending, maybe Billy wants it. ]

[ the longer he stands there with that open bottle, letting those fumes waft up into his face, the warmer he starts to feel. the scent clings to his nostrils — musky, spiced, like a cheap cologne, but also a little alien to him — even as he notes the way heat starts to prickle under his skin, david can't quite bring himself to close the bottle just yet. ]

Smells weird. [ it's an absent comment, quiet, more to himself than billy. ]

[ --shit. billy. david shakes his head, puffs out a breath with a deep frown as he tries to pull his shit together. this isn't-- whatever this is, they shouldn't be fucking with it. david doesn't know what it is, but he thinks about billy inhaling this shit and feels certain it's not good. ]

S'Clowns. [ nurse wouldn't be mixing up weird stinky potions and hiding them around the place, right? david corks the bottle-- god he feels fucking woozy. ] Don't, uh-- [ he backs up against the nearest wall and slides down it to sit. ] Don't mess with it.

[ Billy's messed around with drugs, fucking around the city with 'friends' when he lived out west. Hawkins, Indiana, had less to offer, save when Munson secured better hookups. Billy fancies himself quite adult when it comes to these things, thank you very much, and he's waiting for David to make a crack about whatever it is. Upper, downer, brain melter. Even if it screws with their brains, scorches their nostrils and chemical burns their throats, they'll just come back.

So he, doesn't expect— ] Hey. Hey, David.

[ Billy rises back up, eyes narrowed and unsure, nerves clouded behind his usually cold eyes. He comes closer, ducking down on a knee to look at David's dilated eyes. ]

Jesus. Here, hold on. [ He probably shouldn't stick David with a needle, Billy's preferred way to be given a helping hand in the fog, but he's got some bullshit tucked in his pockets, vaguely remembers Claudette's careful explanations for what each herb does. His botanical knowledge is not high.

But first, he reaches for the bottle in David's hand. ]

[ he sees billy reaching for the bottle and abruptly, suddenly pulls it back. there's a part of him that desperately wants to take another deep breath of whatever's inside-- fuck it, drink it too. but that's not why he pulls away. he presses a thumb down hard on the cork, until it goes white from the pressure to make sure it's closed and carefully puts it down. ]

M'fine. [ said, of course, just before he practically rips off his jacket and throws it down like a toddler about to throw a fit. he's so fucking hot and the temperature just keeps rising. ] Jesus, s'fuckin' hot.

[ this is fine. it's probably fine. he just needs to ride it out is all. ]

[ It's not hot, it's clammy and kind of cool, but David's composure crumples apart. He looks like he's in pain. Billy jerks his hand away when David snatches the bottle closer; he doesn't really know what to do. There's no wound to slap some salve on. He's not really sure what herb would help. He isn't sure what it is—and a sharp pang of guilt niggles at him.

He found it. David smelled it. And now David's brain is going to leak out of his ears while Billy watches. Because David never lets Billy take the fall.

Billy is not particularly touchy, unless he's "talking" up a girl or breaking someone's nose in. His hand hovers for a second and then he leans forward and presses his palm to David's forehead. David often rests a hand on his shoulder or slaps his back; the least Billy can do is try to figure out how to stop him from dying. ]

Hold on, man. Do you want water? Let me— let me see what I have. Take something.

[ david flinches away from billy's hand with a soft hiss as if the touch burns, as if his hand is a thousand degrees. david is the one who's hot to the touch though, colour blooming on his cheeks, sweat starting to form on his forehead and the back of his neck. ]

[ water? no. he shakes head. his forehead tingles where billy touched him, like a faint buzzing under the skin, something hinting at what it is he needs. to be touched? david shakes his head again. no. not exactly. ]

Maybe, uh-- maybe someone at camp might know somethin' about this kinda thing.

[ it's not that he's struggling, not exactly, but the words come out a little leaden. as if he'd been drinking. not drunk but not sober enough for the words to form effortlessly. probably because his mind is zoning in on what it is he wants-- needs right now, where the heat is pooling in his body, and he is trying hard to think about anything except-- ] Jeff. Jeff'll be able to help.

[ Yeah, David's going to burn out. He's warm and clammy to the touch, and his eyes look all fucked up. It's kind of crazy, he didn't even drink it or anything, but the response is quicksilver quick as it works its way through David.

Billy lets his hand drop, and when he pulls out his phone there might be a bit of a tremble. Even if David would come back, Billy really doesn't want more people on his conscious. This feels different than a trial; it feels more real. ]

Yeah, what would Jeff know about it? [ Billy scoffs. Listen, he likes Jeff. Billy's a young man, interested in throwing axes and brewing beer, at least as hypotheticals. Jeff has an awful lot of manly hobbies, but Billy isn't sure he's ever heard him raise his voice, save for when he's screaming bloody murder while being stabbed in the side. Jeff is fine, but he also eats up a lot of David's time. Which is fine. But David is also Billy's da— friend, thank you very much.

He's already typing a message to Claudette: david breathed something now he's sweating and freaking out. green herb or yellowgreen herb? ] I'll message Claudette, just hold on.

[ First: he's still point-and-peck slow at texting. Second: he reaches out and grips David's shoulder loosely. Like... calming. Like David does to him. ]

[ he's not listening. he doesn't understand. david makes a quiet, frustrated noise at the way he dismisses jeff and stares at him, eyes wide and darting over billy's face as he tries to figure out how to make him understand. jeff doesn't have the medical or botanical knowledge some people do, sure, but he's also better than most at just being a calming presence. and his hands are warm and his touch is soothing and-- ]

[ billy puts a hand on his shoulder and normally he'd appreciate the gesture, but right now it sets too many neurons firing in a million directions and david tries to shrug it off with a weak complaint. ]

'm tellin' you. [ he pulls a face, trying to concentrate. ] Get'im.

Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. You want to talk to the old, crusty metalhead instead of the medic.

[ Billy says this dismissively, because he's not doing it. Because he's texting Claudette slowly. Maybe he should message Rebecca or Lisa? All three of them make more sense, and thankfully, Claudette is apparently not in trial. Unfortunately, it not that helpful:

>How are his vitals?
>what
>Tell me more symptoms. Pulse? Pupil size? Has he seized?

Jesus. Seizing? He really doesn't want David to start foaming at the mouth.

>sweaty. angry. doesn't want me to touch him.
big pupils. panting.
dont know. he said to get jeff.

It takes Claudette longer to respond this time.

>Oh. I see. Yes, you should see if Jeff is available. ]

Uh. Okay hold on.

[ david nods and stays put. ]

[ well. he reaches for his bag to get his water and drains the whole fucking bottle. he's so goddamn hot he feels like he might melt. then he just sits there, hands twisted up in his jeans just to keep himself from doing anything stupid. ]

[ Billy sends some NEAR USELESS texts to Jeff. But he is in fact fretfully watching David sweat buckets. ]

Are you going to puke?

...Want me to find a bucket?

[ once upon a time that would've been a stupid question, throwing up was something david just didn't do, but these days... ]

[ he tilts his head, thinking about it, but he doesn't feel nauseous, just. just hot and foggy and aching for something that he refuses to acknowledge even though he's halfway asked for it already anyway, even if nobody's realised. ]

M'not gonna vom.

[ god he hopes not at least. that would get in the way of things. ]

You sure? Because you look like you're going to hurl.

[ Billy's eyes dart up from the phone, where he's slowly trying to explain but not over-explain that David is dying.

He does lean down and pull his own water bottle out of his pack before handing it over. ] Think you can keep not-dying, man? Calvary's on their way.

[ david takes the bottle with a nod of thanks, lifts it to his lips and pauses at the question. he'd laugh if he had a sense of humour left in there, but it's taking everything he's got right now to act semi-lucid still. ]

Calvary? [ he gives billy a confused look for his trouble ] Claudette's not gonna make me tip back some nasty herb drink is she?

You’re off the hook until you get back to camp.

[ Billy disagrees, but Claudette didn’t give him a rundown of what to do, and she seemed to think David’s request wasn’t insane. That, or she thought he was going to die and figured his last request should be filled. So: ]

Jeff’s coming. Come on. Let me help you to a pew.

[ The least he can do is get David off the ground, so once again he reaches for David’s arm and goes to heave him upward. ]

[ jeff? david's eyes brighten at his name, relief as much as anything, and it distracts him enough to make david forget why exactly he's been shrugging off billy's touches this whole time. he takes the offer to help him up, clasping billy's arm for stability, billy's grip on his own in turn is secure. warm. sets his skin tingling and before he's even aware of the sensation david-- ]

[ moans. ]

[ it's a quiet, shaky noise. the kind that could easily be taken as pain or discomfort or a million things other than what it is, if not for the way david's eye's widen and he hastily relinquishes his hold on billy's arm to shove him away. ends up falling back on his ass with a grunt of pain but it's preferable to whatever the fuck that was. ]

It's, uh-- [ shit fuck shit fuck shit-- ] S'fine. I'll move myself.

[ Okay, listen. He might only admit it while bleeding out or— trapped in a room with David set on dying for him, but Billy cares about David. Otherwise he wouldn't be here, he'd be pursuing something more hedonistic or antagonistic or just feeling sorry for his dead self all by his lonesome. Billy cares about David. He does.

So, when David groans in pain (?) and shoves him away, Billy stalls, expression pinched and tight and a little angry. He's trying to help. ]

Christ man, what's your problem? [ Did Billy hurt him? He's trying to be gentle. ] You can't even walk. Let me help you.

I can walk. [ he just doesn't particularly want to move, he's already like 1000 degrees, doing anything he doesn't have to right now sounds like hell. ]

[ but, as if to make a point, david pushes himself back up with a grunt. slow to get to his feet, but he manages, if shakily. swaying a little when he stands, but he puts a hand up to stop billy. ]

Just can't-- [ hm. ] Don't touch me.

Okay, okay. [ Billy sounds exasperated, but he doesn't reach for David again. Maybe Jeff can do a better job at making David move his dying body somewhere else. Which is annoying. What can Jeff do that Billy can't?

He almost sits, but opts instead to stand, cross his arms, and watch David. Until he realizes he still has a couple of crumpled cigarettes in his pocket, and pulls one out so his hands will have something to do while he waits for David to die or Jeff to arrive. Whatever comes first.

He's not an animal though. He offers one to David. ]

[ due to a lack of conveyed urgency on billy's part (and frankly a lack of detail), jeff doesn't exactly take his time, but he's in no immediate rush to get to the asylum. from what he can tell, david is fine - a little sluggish at his best guess, from whatever he inhaled, but relatively okay otherwise. just in need of an extra shoulder to lean on back to camp, probably preferably belonging to someone david knows won't mention any of this after they get back.

but he makes good time, despite being left partially in the dark. billy mentioned the church, so that's where he heads, keeping and eye and an ear out for any unsavory characters. sally he can mostly handle, but that clown bastard sparks instant aggression in him for whatever reason. jeff follows the smell of old burning wood, slips into the church through an open archway, and reaches for the flashlight in his back pocket. it's not that dark, but it doesn't hurt to have it ready.

the faint smell of stale tobacco meets him before the sight of billy or david, but it doesn't take him very long to find them either. billy looking a little more frazzled than jeff would have guessed (he was expecting annoyance over anything else), and david—

david looks like he's battling something. a little pink in the face, down the column of his throat, and covered in sweat. he looks like he's just run a killer around for ten minutes and then some, but there are no signs of the clown or the nurse. no blood, as far as he can tell, and aside from the mildly spooked expression, billy seems unscathed. the difference between them is a little alarming.

immediately, jeff moves forward, brushes past billy with a quick pat-squeeze to his bicep (strangely similar to the same way david does sometimes), pushes the medkit he brought with him into his hands. david's jacket is on the floor, jeff notes, as he steps over it to get to david. he shoves his flashlight back into his back pocket, reaches for david and then just kind of. stops, hands hovering near him but not touching him. ]

Hey. [ quiet, direct, maybe with a little unexpected softness as his brows pinch together slightly. ] You okay? Heard you got into some shit.

[ he glances back at billy over his shoulder, eyes narrowed just slightly. not accusatory, just - questioning. ]

How long's he been burning up?

[ david's just barely taken the offered cigarette with a quiet, gruff 'thanks' when his eyes flick up at footsteps in the building and he turns to look at-- ]

[ jeff. god. what a fucking relief. david watches him move through the room, eyes bright and more focused than he's been on anything so far. he looks good, has he always looked that good? probably. the stress of the situation almost visibly eases out of him as he watches the other man approach. (honestly he's more or less forgotten billy's even there.) at the same time though, david feels like he's heating up all over again, feels sweat trickle down the back of his neck and it sends a shiver up his spine in response. ]

[ he's too focused on jeff to think much of it though, a frown on his face when jeff reaches for him and doesn't touch him, barely even hearing the words coming out of his mouth, his gaze falls to jeff's hands. stares at them like he can will them to move just by thinking at them enough — just touch him. please. he's been aching for it since he uncorked that stupid bottle. ]

[ and now jeff isn't paying attention to him? david's tongue flicks out to wet his lips while he thinks, or tries to. he doesn't really get far with that before he's reaching out, one hand to jeff's neck and the other in the front of his shirt to pull him in aggressively for a kiss. ]

[ Billy really doesn't hate Jeff. Honest. The 'being a friend of David's' pushed him into higher esteem than a handful of the other poor souls in the fog, because it's probably increasingly apparent that Billy doesn't like — men. Well, older men. He can shoot the shit with, impress, shmooze, and bite and bark at his peers no problem. Older women too, he can turn on a wide smooth grin; but, men, he turns surly toward.

David has weaseled in, and because of that he's important. Jeff is— a maybe. Billy doesn't shrug off the grip on his arm, but he doesn't melt in relief at the sight of him. Billy's far past thinking someone can waltz in and solve all of his problems.

David though is keyed into Jeff. Eyes on Jeff the moment he walks in. Billy isn't even sure if he hears them talking, he's so fucked up. Time to see what Jeffcan do to help. ]

He's been like this since a little before I mailed you. [ Listen. It's called texting. Feel free to remind him. ] The bottle is over —

[ And that's about when David flings himself at Jeff, and Billy jerks forward too, because who's to say David's eyes aren't going to roll up to face his cranium before he starts groaning like one of that zombie's smaller zombie puppets?

He's nearly convinced for a moment, before he has a front-row seat to David's hand on Jeff's neck, tugging him close to glue himself to his mouth. It's aggressive, there's a lot of mouth, a lot of tongue, a lot of noise, and Billy's no prude, but they're both men and Jeff has a beard, and— Well, something's very wrong.

He acts on instinct, hands gripping each of their shoulders to attempt wrenching them apart. What? ] What? Jesus, get off him!

[ so david's been sweating out an entire swimming pool for at least twenty minutes, if not longer. seems, to jeff, like an important thing to mention - he would have gotten here sooner, shot claudette or lisa a text on the way to try and get a better idea of how to help - but it's not worth chiding billy over. jeff's seen david in far worse conditions, so while there is concern, it's relatively mild.

jeff's eyes shift, already looking for the aforementioned bottle before billy even gestures. orange, right? maybe one of them should grab it - safely - and bring it back to camp so someone with a little more knowledge can figure out what it is and how to combat it, or at the very least, find somewhere to dump it out where no one else can get into it by accident. before he can find it, though—

—there are hands on him. one on his neck, firm and warm, and the other fisted in the front of his shirt and jeff's first thought is that david's going down - billy mentioned he was having trouble standing. instinctively, jeff's hands find david's torso, palms splayed around his rib cage and ready to catch him, brace his weight. he's speaking before he's even turned his head. ]

Easy—

[ but whatever he'd been about to say is immediately cut off and tucked away into david's mouth almost the second he turns to look at him, the hand at the back of his neck pulling him in with almost no effort.

it's... easy, to get caught up. it's david, and jeff's maybe a little more gone on him than he'd readily admit. he makes a soft sound in the back of his throat, just a single low note that sounds more caught off guard than anything else, his fingers flexing against david's ribs. it takes a only a second or two for his brain to catch up, to remember that - they are not alone and that this is unlike david (and himself) to be so openly... affectionate with other people around, and just as billy grips his shoulder, jeff pulls back. pushes gently but a little urgently at david's ribs to try and get a little bit separation, but doesn't take his hands off of him. ]

Uhh.

[ jeff clears his throat, absently swipes his tongue over his lower lip as he looks at david, brows pinching and then lifting. what is going on here. what is going. on. ]

(( get them drunk on rose water ))

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