orangetoughguy | logging iv

Fuck.....!

[Yep, still hurts like a motherfucker. Freddy's too stunned to fight back (maybe he doesn't want to fight back). Wiry arms sort of just fall against the old man. There's clear disorientation and disbelief on his face. This isn't how it works. Moreso, the kid was always adamant in believing that place was their second chance. Not this one.]

What're you--doing, Larry?

[Doing something they couldn't do before, it seems.]

[He wanted to run away. Whether or not that dream or this reality are the real McCoy Lawrence Dimick is sticking to what he knows. The smaller man's dead weight is the only thing slowing him down.]

Getting us out of here.

[Words are short, clipped because he is huffing and puffing from strain and unsure of what else to say from there. Half way across the floor he realizes how cold Freddy is. Better make it fast.]

Save your strength.

[Shut up.]

For...for what?

[He breathes. It takes all his energy to put out words while his mind is trying to wrap itself around the situation. No time for that. His immediate knowledge kicks in.]

They're coming that way.

[Freddy says to Larry, nodding low at the opposite direction. It's not quite a warning therefore it's not quite betrayal. Right?]

We're not sticking around to see them.

[They can't be far. How many? How ready are they? Questions could be asked but he'd rather not. It distracts him from the task at hand and makes him want to ask more questions. More. More.

He kicks open the door. That is, after he's made his way across the floor with the very heavy, very wrapped uporange. For all the car moving previously it is looking like Al's used car lot again. Larry doesn't want any of them. Not Eddie's hunk of junk is not to his liking.

Are you ballsy enough to take Joe's car, Dimick? The answer is yes.]

Okay.

[Freddy huffs softly, close to a whisper, a sound they're both familiar with. Oh fuck does this mean everything has been reset? Even that? Now's not the time, Newendyke. Piled on into a car and fleeing his own side of the law takes a lot out of a guy. The next time Freddy wakes up he's in a strange bed in a strange room with some medical equipment nearby...but it ain't no hospital.]

....What the fuck happened?

[Panic starts to set in.]

Larry...??

{Like a hospital. It's the next best thing. Hell, it was all he could think of. It didn't take a genius to figure out if there was a nurse around with connections it would be one from the old days.

Voices drift in from the hall.

"Go in there, keep him quiet. He's not ready to move." The voice is stern and maternal.

Larry's own talks back. "We have to keep moving. You know what this is." He doesn't wait for a reply to come into the room.]

I'm here.

[They both are. Here has become clearer and clearer.]

[Freckled hands reach out for the old man. Oh that hurts. But who's the other person? Hell Freddy doesn't care.]

What are we doing?

[Even more concerning is his follow up question:]

What are we gonna do? They'll come looking for us.

[He almost said they'll come looking for him, just him, one of their own, but Freddy thinks twice just in time.]

[Sucker that he is he reaches back. Rough hand in his, at least he had a little time to wash so there isn't any blood.]

Mexico. It'll be safe there. They can come look but they'll have a hard as fuck time.

[The crook believes they'll look for both of them. The law man needs to be accounted for, the dirty dog needs to be put in the pound. Something like that.]

Down there they'll have a better doctor for you.

[He grips that other hand like a lifeline.]

Mexico?

[A better doctor, he says. Only the best diamonds can afford? Shit what did happen to Mr. Pink? Who has the ice? Freddy definitely wasn't paying attention to that little detail. He also still has no idea who this other person is. Fuck.]

Like this?

[In his bloody suit, oh wait maybe he's been changed. Jesus get a grip, Newendyke.]

[A tight grip means there's still life and fight in him. Looking down at their hands together is comforting as it is confusing.]

Until we figure another place, yeah. It's closer then you think.

[A steady, long drive is ahead of them. It's a lot for nerves and a guy who's in a sort of delicate condition. Larry keeps his lips sealed because compared to how he was, Freddy here is camera ready.]

We're safe. For now but we can't stay.

When?

[Freddy finds himself asking instead of saying 'no' or 'why' or 'that can't happen' because he's a fucking undercover and this is not how the operation was supposed to go. Of course he couldn't exactly predict being thrown into some alternate universe either. Fuck how many years did they just regain?]

As soon as you think you're ready.

[Which may not be now or even the next day.]

The sooner, the better.

[Are they going to even mention it? They could keep carrying on. Except what if he changes his mind? So far there is no sign of that. Larry keeps a hold on his hand.]

She patched you up the best she could. Says you'll be sore.

I am sore.

[Freddy confirms without knowing how long it's been but clearly long enough because he's only sore and not in mass hysteria. He makes an attempt to sit up straight but that sends him from being sore to being sharply in pain again. No dice.]

Now.

[Because they'll come looking for him and he hasn't had the time to figure out what he's going to say, if he ever sees his department again.]

Okay.

[Still holding his hand, why stop? It is his life line, right now it's the reason to keep moving. Keep trying and living in the moment not moments passed. The pain on his face makes the old man have a bout of his own in sympathy.]

I gotcha.

[Against his side and pulling an arm over his shoulder.

Their departure from the small room to the hallway brings them in the path of a beautiful, tired looking black woman. She must be in her late thirties or early forties. If she's older it is impossible to tell. Her mouth is set in a judgmental pout. It would appear that the look is for Mr. White and Mr. White alone.]

Shit that hurts... [But he's not fucking dying, he's actually trying to hold onto Larry too.] We're going? For real?

[And who's that? Some chick? Someone who won't tell? His boys his blue could scorch her something fierce in interrogation, if they get this far. Would they? Wouldn't they? Everyone's heard of The Onion Field.]

Careful. We got something for you to take.

[We meaning she. Maybe the less he knows of Bonnie the better. But Larry will tell him in time.]

For real. You and me.

[As real as this is...which seems surreal. They talked about running away, about what it would be like when they were in that place. The old man meant every word he said. Stepping out of the kitchen door to the driveway it is night. The neighborhood is quiet, suburban. The car is covered in blankets on the seats hiding the blood. First smell inside is highly chemical almost burning. Larry helps Freddy settle in.]

Stay here. I'll say goodbyes.

Edited 2013-11-07 09:28 (UTC)

[Painkillers, right? Bless her, whoever the fuck she is. Freddy hobbles out into the cool night with Larry, his adrenaline less electrifying and almost sobering. He's afraid but this time for all sorts of reasons stemming from their current situation and the one they left behind in that place. Shit he wants to ask the old man if it was real. When he's in the car and Larry's looking to leave him alone Freddy reaches out to grab his arm.]

Don't leave me.

[He says quickly. Fucking deja vu. You're in it deep now, Newendyke, there's no turning back.]

[Painkillers and penicillin because she's sure if he goes untreated there'll be infection. Clearly, they're both in trouble and not only that a man she's known is out of his goddamn mind. At least she's even for real for all the things he's done for her and her mother... all the reasons why Lawrence Dimick feels obligated to make nice. This may be the last time he'll see her ever again.

The lights from the house behind them seem brighter, makes the night seem colder and more traitorous then just another California night. For an unnumbered time, Larry's grounded by Freddy's clutching hand.]

I'm here. I'm here with you, I'm not going to leave. I'll stay on the doorstep where you can see me.

[His voice is soft, hushed. With his free hand he combs back Freddy's hair like he has done it a thousand times before.

...he has, hasn't he?]

Okay, man....okay.

[Freddy whispers with intent on calming himself down, for his sake and for Larry's. How can he expect the guy to be a professional if he's crying the whole way? Shit you should be crying, Newendyke, you will be when they catch you. When. If. Greener eyes watch the other man up close, Freddy can only tilt his head into the combing palm.]

Hurry.

[Let's get out of here. We have to run. Pink Floyd wrote a song about it once.]

[His lips purse because he wants to kiss him. The impulse is real and alive like the two of them. And the memory of a million others is hot in his mind but not so hot or urgent as their safety.]

I will.

[Carefully he pulls away and before he stalls more shuts the door and goes to the back porch to look into the kitchen. His lips move in a thank's a million and sorry for any to trouble you most importantly goodbye, sweetheart. Bonnie's a grown to be a great woman. Take no shit like her mother. Unlike her mother she's had no taste for illegal substances or unreliable rambling men.

That's it then. The old man goes back to the car, rounding to the driver's seat.]

Okay.

[Silence is buzzing in his ears. The low radio feels like it's too loud. It's only just after sunset but it feels late, so very, very late. They've got many miles to cover.]

We're outta here.

[Freddy will remember her face but her name's a secret safe from him. As long as she does what Larry tells her to there's no risk. The old man's a fucking pro, he lit up a cop's party and never got caught. That takes fucking know-how. What the fuck are you doing with him, Newendyke?]

Are we gonna make it?

[No passport, no papers, no ID. Of course the kid's never had to cross the border on the sly before. What does he know about it? The radio's playing some song, something appropriate to their time. There's no network to use at their disposal, to their benefit.]

[What the fuck indeed? Pulling out of the residential area, he keeps the lights off, the radio still a muffle really flying under the radar.]

We are, man. A hop, skip and a jump.

[Easy sounding, ain't it? Well, it takes a lot of dirt roads. A few bills too. Whatever it takes. The ride for now is street to freeway. Brown eyes are checking the mirrors.]

How're you feeling?

I feel okay.

[Okay meaning alive. He actually feels fucking sick and it's not necessarily sick with Larry or himself. There are too many things going on at once, too many things to process.]

I need to smoke.

[Terrible idea with his patched up stomach. Don't let him do it, Dimmy. Fortunately Freddy doesn't even have it in him to look for a cigarette and a light.]

I got pills. They're in my pocket. The long white ones are for the pain. They're every twelve if you take two. The little yellow ones are to be taken with food every--[oh fuck what?] every eight hours or so. Just one.

[Being okay means that there's still room for improvement. One of Larry's hands leave the wheel to take a hold of Freddy's.]

Wait a bit on that, okay? After we're out of the state we'll get something to eat and stop. Then you can have a smoke.

[Taking charge and guiding like he's confident, like he's not scared out of his goddamn mind.]

[Dope already? No wait that's legitimate medicine, the kind of stuff Freddy would abuse in certain circumstances, this being one of them so keep an eye out on him Dimmy.]

Okay....

[He nods, taking Larry's word for it. He wouldn't dare dope the kid up just to keep him knocked out for the ride right?? A cool freckled hand manages to return the grip. Shit who knew they'd find themselves right back where they started but with years of memories to guide their course.]

You gotta be careful.

[Freddy whispers. No shit they have to proceed with caution. Caramel-green eyes are getting half-lidded. He's fucking exhausted.]

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