orangetoughguy | log post II

[Freddy shakes his head.]

Naw, I'm not gettin' that from'im. [But well, Blonde. How could one man become such a game changer? On the other hand the same could be said of Lawrence Dimick and Freddy Newendyke for each other. Ugh, that pain in his side hits a little sharper than expected.] Hey I gotta--[Think fast, Newendyke.]--piss. I'll be back.

[He doesn't give the old man any signal to follow either. How about that.]

Your eagle eyes'll be on him so he better behave himself.

[Not as a cop. This isn't even about the law in Larry's eyes, it's survival.]

Okay.

[No following signal? Grown man needs his privacy. Okay. Larry can deal with a little disappointment. Besides, a piss is a piss. Won't take long.

Or maybe he forgot.]

[Freddy's got the right mind to tell Larry one time Eames touched him in a bad place and somehow that led to a messy rough romp in the bathroom but the pain in his side cuts through his sense of humor. In the mens room he picks the farthest stall at the end to reassess his pain level. It feels like his scar wants to open up and start bleeding all over again but when he looks under his shirt everything is right as freckled rain. He'd heard about this going on from others, he didn't take it seriously until it started happening to him.]

Fuck...

[Yeah, that's to himself. Freddy digs through his pockets for the small amount of painkillers he managed to procure. Don't ask how, he just managed. He was a cop after all, an undercover one too.]

[Talk like that wold get the old man's juices flowing in a big way. Thems are fighting words. Larry finishes off his beer. Ah, what the hell. May as well see how the kid is doing. He's up off of the table, grabbing the waiter for a refill on the way to show that they're still enjoying the eats. Into the mens room he goes. What the? Not even using the urinal.]

[Freddy's unaware that the old bear's come sniffin' around. He's too busy still trying to decide if he'll pop a pill or not. Too bad for him when he decides to do it he drops the pill right into the bowl.]

Shit man! [The kid hisses, irritated. At least he didn't lose the other four. Yeah he's got only five. Look he doesn't want to get hooked okay?]

[There we go. That voice he'd recognize anywhere. Larry goes straight to the stall and knocks.]

What's the trouble?

[Larry's voice and the knock make him jump out of his fucking skin. Calm down, Newendyke, just calm down. He pockets the rest of the pills before he can even take one.]

I'm okay.

[No you're not. Don't lie. Don't lie so shortly after his birthday. Don't lie to your friend. A friend who's kind of more than that.]

I don't feel good. [So not good Freddy hasn't thought to unlock the door yet.]

[The stall clatters as he attempts to open the door.]

Open the door.

Leaning in such a way he can peek into the stall. It doesn't look like he's sitting on the pot.]

Was it something you ate?

[Oh yeah. He slides the latch to open the thing, preferring to bring Larry in than to step out himself. Doesn't sound like anyone else is there right?]

No. I got some kinda pain here, where I got shot. Feels like a fuckin' sidestitch.

[Freddy gestures for the old man to the spot even though he knows Larry knows exactly where the bullet scar is. The pill still sits at the bottom of the bowl.]

[As far as the old man knows. They're on their own. In he goes and for good measure he locks the door. The minute he says something about the old wound Larry is lifting up his shirt to see the area for himself.]

Looks normal.

[Rough fingertips move over the scar very lightly. Since they're near the toilet all it takes is a glance down.]

That don't make no sense.

[It's a closed wound. It's gonna be a year in the summer...along with everyone else.]

What the fuck is that?

[Though he knows a pill when he sees it.]

[Freddy doesn't protest this shirt-lifting even when it's not being done in a way that's become kind of familiar to him. No arousal in sight.]

I know, but it--it fuckin' hurts.

[Oh shit. Oh shit oh shit he sees it.] I figured takin' a painkiller'd do it in.

[Could you sound anymore pathetic, Newendyke?]

[It doesn't look like it is sensitive to the touch. He doesn't risk it though. Larry puts his shirt back down.]

You takin' pills?

[Brown eyes look into his face one than the other. Is he medicated already? What exactly is that? Is the kid getting something off of the street? Woah, woah. Mr. White shuts his eyes a second to rub the bridge of his nose. Let's not get too hasty. Freddy isn't stupid. It's easy to tell himself to lay off of that except the kid hadn't mentioned this at all.]

How long?

No. [Okay that sounds way too accused. Calm down, Newendyke.] No. I just got'em. I ain't had any.

[After finding Larry's stash, the awful outcome that came from it, and once finding him in a coke laden daze, Freddy knows far better than to get caught in a trap. Could he have taken it and told him in the same night had White not followed him into the bathroom though? Who knows now.]

[That's a relief. Kind of. Hands go to his hips as he assesses the pill at the bottom of the water and the man standing beside him.]

When did you go to the hospital?

[Without him. Without telling him. Meaning that it's been more than a few days.]

When were you going to tell me?

I didn't. I know a guy who knows a guy and he did me a favor.

[Even as he says it the kid's already kind of hunching over and trying to turn in on himself, not just from the pain either. Oh, here. He reaches into his pocket to hand the pills over to Larry.] I was gonna tell you if it got bad. I just wanted to truck on, it wasn't this bad before Larry.

[Because he didn't want to mess up the afterglow of the flowers or the chair. Of course last week it wasn't this bad.

Bad enough for you to use something for it.

[Nostrils flare in anger something like a bull. He's gotta keep his cool. It's not gonna make Freddy feel better. The anger is apparent on his face. He takes a look at the pills in his hand. Sure enough looks pretty standard shit. Pharmacy imprints and all. This isn't any homemade street shit.]

So how bad is it? Huh?

[Let him keep his damn pills.]

I'm not usin'.

[Freddy fires back with more frustration than anger. He didn't take it and he's not gonna, not right now, and maybe not ever. He pockets the bottle though because he's not gonna do something dramatic like flush it all down the toilet either. When it's legit it's legit. Why he hasn't gone to the hospital for it isn't just because he might not qualify, what with other people experiencing the same phantom pains, it's also because that guy works there. Best to avoid the whole place whenever possible.]

Don't blow a fuckin' fuse on me.

[Is that the sound of a wounded Newendyke? Maybe. But he's still able to keep standing on his own two feet. He won't lean on a stall wall now, especially with Larry looking at him like that. Freddy'll go for a cigarette now.] It got real bad this morning, it's a pain to eat.

[Fine then. The old bear backs up. That wasn't what he meant. And if it's any good to the kid might be worth taking. Another reason to be angry, this time at himself. He takes few steps in one direction than the other, not entirely pacing. No response to that request or that outburst. A few moments of quiet. Calm the fuck down.]

Why didn't you tell me? Bad or not why didn't you tell me?

[There's no way for this to look like a magical happening like a diamond shitting toucan.]

It wasn't a big deal. [In other words, not something he wanted the old man to worry about.] It coulda been anything.

[Then Angela told him about her pains and he started paying closer attention. The biggest curiosity to him is why Larry doesn't have any of it and they both had been shot together too. Then again, the pain's radiating from only his gut wound, not his shoulder one.]

I don't know what the fuck it means.

[Already he's sounding apologetic. How hard it is to say I didn't wanna mess up a nice time (after a diamond shitting toucan fiasco) with a stupid ache.]

It's not a big deal when you feel it. It's not a big deal when you go seek out pills to take for it. When is it a big deal then?

[Asking out of exasperation. Larry isn't resourceful or in medicine okay that he gets. He would have done something. Been more supportive. For fuck's sake he wouldn't have had them go out to eat or take the long way to get food.

Who did he tell? Where did he turn to? Freddy doesn't have many people he confides and certainly no one closer than himself. That he knows. The list of who could have given him the pills is short. Around the top is That Dick.]

That's why you couldn't fucking eat. What's the point of us goin' out?

[So that the old man could have his fucking fish. That's not fair. Why does he have to keep doing that?]

[Too many questions and too many subtle (or not so subtle) verbal gestures of his own shortcomings. Yes, the kid knows he messed up but now he's feeling like the old man's getting harsh on him. Freddy slaps his hand against the wall like doing so gives him an anchoring point when he leans into Larry's face. He just wanted an excuse to smack the wall.]

I tried okay? I really fuckin' tried to keep on doin' everything like it was normal. Not just for you but for me too because I'm supposed to be stronger than this. I fucking nearly bled to death and I sure as hell wouldn't wanna fuckin' do it again but I did it. This?

[He gestures over where his belly is.] Should be a goddamn cakewalk, Larry. [Caramel greens are more sour apple than caramel now because it bothers him most that he doesn't know why it hurts. Though, obviously it doesn't hurt him enough not to have an argument about it.]

I wasn't tryin' to keep anything from you, I just wanted to have a plain old good time.

[Noise sure carries in bathrooms like these. Maybe it's the high ceiling. It could be intimidating to some types. Not Mr. White types tough. He'll come face to face.]

The only reason why you had to put up with it for so long is because you had to. Here, there's no damn reason good enough to compromise your physical well being.

[Right? Right? Larry combs his fingers through his hair. For his own good, he reaches for the latch on the door.]

I'm glad you're okay. I think we should get you to a professional just in case.

[The kid didn't eat diamonds that much is true.]

I just wanna finish dinner...

[That's spoken with no petulance and everything something kind of like defeated. Not defeated by Larry either but defeated by whatever the city's decided to throw at them.]

It fuckin' tastes good...

[And whine whine whine. Maybe Freddy's feeling bad too for being such a fuck up but he doesn't know how to say it.]

We can take it home.

[Door unlatched, he walks to into the rest of the men's room. No one is around. Freddy can come out if he wants.]

They got doggie bags.

[Since he's out there he takes out his comb and wet it under the faucet.]

How are you feeling right now?

Edited 2011-05-17 07:37 (UTC)

Yeah, okay.

[Freddy gives a couple nods before stepping out of the stall too. Thank fucking Christ no one's around. His posture is tense but not rigid, it's hard to carry a stiff back when you're slouching from pain, and Orange wasn't one to walk straight up and tall to begin with.]

Still fuckin' hurts but you didn't take the wind outta me?

[He's joking. Maybe it's an ill timed joke.]

log post II

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