orangetoughguy | log post II

[It hurts to hear this. Because it's apparent the kid is in turmoil, it's apparent that Larry can't do anything about it. And yes, it's true it's is fault too.]

Yeah? Well. Me neither.

[Which isn't exactly a response either. Different issue too.]

What am I supposed to do? Oh wait. Can't ask no fucking questions.

[Okay he's on his way or at least trying. Larry almost falls into the coffee table. Nice save.]

[What? Okay the kid's on his feet too, eyes less caramel and more sour apple. He points, waves his hand, all kinds of gesticulating.]

Fuck you and your fucking questions, Larry! You don't tell me shit. Am I supposed to believe me and all this is all you fuckin' need? That you kicking the shit out of me once got the brass out of your system? Do you think my family's a bunch of characters in a cute story where the grass is fucking greener than yours?

[It's not fair to keep raging at an intoxicated man.]

I don't know what I should say. I'm goin' with it. Ever think that? I tell you when I think of it, when I'm asked. Sharing don't come naturally. I ask so you can ask too.

[Both palms open he's holding them out to the open air. He's really got nothing in the face of this. His mind's not working like it should. This shouldn't be so hard to say his piece. They get each other. Or at least they usually.]

I don't know! I don't fucking know why you are how you are or how I am the way I am. I don't...I don't know.

[He blinks and doesn't feel good on the inside at fucking all. Larry takes a step back.]

All I know is what feels right. Now it isn't quite it. I don't fucking know.

[Again he shakes his head but instantly regrets it.]

Yeah I got the gist of that.

[More sarcasm he'll regret later. The kid shakes his head.] If you don't know and I don't know then we're both royally fucked.

[Once upon a time he knew he liked entertaining the idea of leaving California for good at Mr. White's side. Now that he's had time to live away from California he knows that idea's probably best as entertainment. Hell Freddy doesn't know for sure. It's hard when you're not even on planet Earth. At least if they were there they'd have some hard clues as to whether they'd be running from the mafia or US marshals.]

You spied on me cause you can't handle me thinking outside a box you didn't help make.

We were fucked at the warehouse. Right here's a walk in the fucking park. No more bodies to put down for you right here.

[No friends are standing in his way. No Joe. No cops. Nobody but themselves now. Larry's not sure of he's part of the problem or the solution anymore. Hell, he's confused as to what the problem is at all. The kid needs to get his head cleared, fine. But Larry can't be a part of that because he helped get it screwed up then, huh? What did he do? Can't it go back to Black Magic Woman. No. The kid is a cop. Things don't ever quit being complicated.

He's going to the kitchen, not away not out. Just...thirsty. Which isn't a good idea. The fridge swings open only to be slammed shut as he answers to this box business that won't die.]

I didn't spy on you. I wanted to take a look at the piece of shit that you're trusting. If you get hurt--I'll fucking kill him.

[There's bristling over the bodies remark because he knows exactly what it means, what he's referring to.]

Yeah because cops aren't real people.

[It makes the kid's blood heat up over extreme inherent differences that might never go away. How many people has Lawrence Dimick killed? Does he already think he's repaying a debt that will never get paid back by being kind to the new kid? Does he think there might be tons of people out there who have every right to gun Two Guns down because he made them in the first place? Freddy Newendyke's none of those things but he's part of an institution who readily treats men like Larry there as less than human. Big fucking difference. Inherent similarities too. Freddy could kill someone who hurt Larry. Right now though, he swallows a hard lump in his throat, feeling wounded too.]

Fuck. [His voice wavers. Shit time to go...up the stairs. He's not going away either, not out, but Freddy has to just leave this space.]

[Larry abandons his beer he was going for hoping to at least brush his fingers against Freddy's arm again. Grab it if he could be so lucky.]

Kid.

[He should apologize but he can't because he doesn't know for what. It's getting to be uncomfortably quiet again and there's no music to blast. He's gonna go upstairs now. They're gonna sleep apart again.

Truth be told, Larry doesn't give a fuck about dead cops. He can't afford to. He's got to sleep at night. So much died so that they could live. Sparingly he thinks about Joe, about Eddie. More and more they creep on in because he's been running from that in ways he can't begin to talk about. They were friends, now the old man's got the kid who won't even look him in the eye that long.]

log post II

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