026 》sweet troubled man are you giving or taking?

[thering]

characters: Malcolm, Neal, Negan, Raylan, Doc
location: 1306 Phillips Dr
date/time: day 26 morning
content: the reset Playstation button was pressed
warnings: tbd

After the strangeness of the past two nights they were likely fully expecting to awaken in the same strange, different, not-so-new anymore places they found themselves in in the past two days.

Instead everything seems to have reset, again. The three permanent residents and two guests are back in 1306, exactly where they had been two nights ago. Malcolm was in his own room, Neal was in Doc's and Negan in Raylan's master bedroom. The two displaced cowboys are downstairs sharing one too-small couch, a night of drinking culminating in fighting over couch space and who gets to be the bigger spoon.

The fire in the fireplace had gone out and their Winter 2020 Collection of bespoke lanterns have vanished, but nothing else seems to be awry.

Comments

[tinstar]

The whiskey of the Mystery Mansion had been good whiskey, and Raylan had fallen asleep in a comfortable, familiar drunkenness that beat everything else away. Of course he'd expected to wake up in the same place he had the two sleeps before, but this morning, he was apparently he was fighting someone for space.

"I can't move over any more than I am," he tiredly grumbled into an ear that his brain said had to be Winona's for some reason and he sighed as he settled back in, arm tucked tightly around a.. waist that suddenly struck as too thick to be Winona's. "The hell?" he asked with an inhale of a breath, waking up a little more to peer blearily at Doc. "Doc?"

To his credit, he didn't pull back or shove Doc off the couch once he realized who he was tucked up so intimately next to.

- Later

After some coffee had been made and passed around, Raylan decided to start breakfast. He didn't know what had happened and there was no doubt that a rousing conversation about just that would happen sooner or later, but he knew that he was hungry, and that most of the stomachs in the house would be too.

Eggs and pancakes, comin' right up.

Twenty minutes later, Raylan is standing over a stove in his undershirt and bare feet with a tea towel over his shoulder as he flips a pancake to reveal a golden brown side. He knew the smell would waft through the house and hoped that that alone would summon some of the housemates and guests up from their beds.

- Later

[abrightboy]

Malcolm lingered in the kitchen. He'd busied himself with keeping the coffee full, sipping his own mug, pacing around the island in an effort that didn't succeed at mitigating his fidgeting.

"Do you need help with anything?" Malcolm asked after making himself turn his attention from Raylan's back to his own coffee cup.

[tinstar]

"You could start the eggs if you wanted. I figured the pancakes take longer so I'd start with them," he said with a tired little lift of his lips in an attempt of a smile that failed the mark a little. The hangover that had threatened him at the start of his morning was in full force and he couldn't do much about it.

"Did you get some sleep before wakin' up this mornin'? I got questions but I figure most of them can wait til we're all.. fully functional."

[abrightboy]

Malcolm's expression crumpled slightly.

"Sleep. No. No, it wasn't.... um." He put his coffee cup down on the island as his hand started shaking more violently. "I had a little. Episode. The first night. I don't think I was asleep but. I couldn't risk a night terror after that. With no restraints. I think I almost took Negan's head off with a fireplace poker."

[tinstar]

Okay, so maybe no eggs.

Raylan took in the news plain faced and took a deep breath, nodding a little as he nudged the pancake around, eyeing Malcolm sidelong. "I ain't got any real plans to leave today. When you start feelin' the pull of it, maybe after some breakfast, let's get you at least an hour or two. A nap. We might find a new bungee cord in the garage, but you can use my belt until we do."

"He get the poker away from you?"

[abrightboy]

Maybe a little bit of eggs. Malcolm hadn't eaten either.

At the invitation, Malcolm looked at him, eyes slightly wider.

"A nap. Yeah. That. Would probably be a good thing." He paused, fidgeting slightly. "Negan... yeah. He. Stopped me." Another pause. "Can we go to town after? See if we can find some belts at the store, like we were going to? I... also wanted to investigate a little. I... have a theory about what happened."

[tinstar]

Raylan shuffled the newest pancake off onto the little stack and poured another one after a smear of butter.

"After breakfast? Yeah, sure. Seems like the storm has passed. Til the next one, anyway." This place wasn't done with it's weather, he was sure.

"Get me the eggs? You can tell me about your theory while we're on our way into town, I ain't ready to disassemble anythin' yet. But I would be interested to hear where you got stuck. You weren't stuck alone with Negan, were you?"

[abrightboy]

Malcolm went to the fridge and took out a carton of eggs, then stood there staring at it as it shook in his shaky hands, then looked at Raylan.

"I was going to make the eggs," he noted with a note of distress. It occurred to him Raylan had asked. At some point in the blur. He put them very carefully on the counter, casting around for a pan.

"We... no we weren't alone. We were in the boarding house. With. Some people. Ellie. And Zed. And a couple new people," he relayed distractedly as he pulled a frying pan out of the cupboard. "I broke... I broke everything," he confessed, putting the pan on the stove.

[tinstar]

It was like he could see the edges of Malcolm fraying a little more with just the stress of having gotten caught up in himself and his own brow pinched faintly in concern as he watched the smaller man flutter to a stop in front of the stove.

"Hey," he sounded softly, mostly to get Malcolm's direct attention before continuing. "It's okay." The instinct was to pull Malcolm into a hug, reassure him like he would have done with Loretta maybe, but everything in him stopped that idea, trading in a hand reaching out to settle on Malcolm's shoulder. "No reason to get wound up. It's just eggs. Breathe, okay?"

His thumb brushed up and down against Malcolm's shoulder before he pulled back to testingly nudge the pancake. Nope, not ready yet.

"Why'd you break everythin'? It talk shit about your mama or somethin'?" He wasn't mocking, in any shape of the word, but it distinctly impressed a specific level of reckless rage. Oh the damage he would do if someone talked shit about his mama.

[abrightboy]

The touch was grounding in itself, backed up by Raylan’s quiet reassurance. He took an unsteady breath as the marshal let go.

“No. There was a shadowy man. Like the one across the chasm.” Like he’d been dreaming about. “And he felt dangerous.” He looked down, pressing his eyes closed. “But he wasn’t real,” he breathed. “I... followed him. I fought him. In the kitchen. I broke everything.” He opened his eyes and looked at Raylan. “Do you think they’ll be mad?”

[tinstar]

If he had been a softer, more open man like Doc, he wouldn't have to chew over if giving a reassuring hug was okay. Then again, maybe Doc had gotten more of those in his life to help make him that way. Of course he wished he was, but life didn't have that in the cards for Raylan.

He frowned softly. "If we're bein' frank, me and dead owls don't give a hoot. There's plenty of space to steal from to replace it. It's not like you broke anything really irreplaceable, right?" Raylan shrugged and shook his head.

"Alls that matters is that you're alright now. I don't suppose you kicked his ass for us, didja?" Nudging the pancake again, he flipped it, off hand propped up on his tilted hips.

[abrightboy]

He looked at Raylan, an almost relieved break in his expression as he huffed a wry laugh.

"If how many dishes I broke and how close I came to giving Negan a concussion are any indication, I sure beat his ass," Malcolm conceded. He reached out, fidgeting at the edge of the counter with his fingers. "It was like the lighthouse that time, except longer." And without Raylan. "What if the next place they put us... what if we're there so long I can't stay awake?"

[tinstar]

A valid question. A valid concern. Raylan's face pinched again and he nodded, repeating the actions to get another pancake on the griddle with a deep sigh.

"I don't know. Get resourceful. If Doc or I ain't around, find someone to wake you up. Short naps is the best I can suggest." He and Doc were intelligent and crafty enough to work something come hell or high water. They cared about Malcolm and what he was cursed to suffer.

"Here," he said, one hand sliding over the small of Malcolm's back as he handed him the spatula and stepped around him. "Watch that for me, will ya?"

Eggs needed to be started.

"I can't tell you how to manage somethin' I don't understand the feelin' of, but if you try to tend to your needs before shit really goes off the rails, you're better off. There's not much we can do but prepare." He knew it wasn't helpful, but it was better than lying to Malcolm about something. Giving him false hope that wouldn't serve him a real situation.

[thering]

So it seems Doc lost the size measuring fight this time around and ended up being the little spoon. Honestly he doesn't seem to mind. Two weeks of interrupted sleep means he's been playing plenty of catchup over the last two days.

"Mmm, no..." His eyebrows furrow and he turns a little more to bury his face into the couch cushion, clutching hard into the edge of the seat, not awake or conscious enough to stop any inappropriate crotch-to-butt rubbing action although that is fast changing as he is inevitably nearly rolling off the couch.

[tinstar]

Raylan huffed a breath and dropped his head back down, the hangover threatening to start in his head more important than his dignity of a man laying this close next to him and in no place to stop the shuffle of settling in that Doc was attempting to do. He could only groan agonizingly and sigh heavily, not totally unaware of the deep comfort that a body, any body, next to him brought.

"Doc," he said, voice sleep rough as his hand moved up to Doc's hip to rub a thumb back and forth. Shaking Doc would mean having to firm up enough to not shake himself and he didn't dare make that kind of jostle yet. "Yer gonna fall off."

[thering]

Doc is used to waking in different women's arms, be they a one night stand or a long term lover or someone who stopped charging by the hour a few hours ago, and it's much preferable than being curled up in the dark waking up cold and alone, so the weight of an arm and a comforting touch isn't so foreign to him.

Raylan's voice isn't so foreign to him either, even if it's never breathed so closely to him, but he can't quite make out the words in his steeped-in-sleep state. He almost elbows the poor man in an effort to turn around, which is when he starts to lose his balance on his little sliver of couch enough to start pulling himself out of his half-asleep state.

Lifting his head ever so slightly, eyes still squeezed shut, Doc groans quietly and lowers his head back down onto the couch again. He takes a long time rubbing his eyes slowly with the back of one hand, tensing up a bit, breathing slow.

"Mm... Raylan...?" But Raylan wasn't in the house; he'd checked.

[tinstar]

At the shuffling, Raylan pressed back into the couch in an attempt to avoid what he could of the turn, but as soon as he felt Doc's weight start to fall, the hand on Doc's hip tightened to help him stay up off the floor. Having quite a number of years experience sleeping next to a body night after night, the movements were automatic; a courtesy given to anyone laying next to him. "Uh-huh," Raylan grunted to the general mood of 'Ugh, morning'.

"Don't remember goin' to sleep here, and I ain't tryin' to cuddle but my head ain't ready to move just yet. Think we're back home though. Just.. don't talk too loud."

[thering]

Raylan wasn't in the house and... and Doc's not in the house, because he had gone to sleep in a bed bigger than this.

Something feels right for the first time in two days and it's not sending Doc flying off the couch. Not just yet, anyway.

Another bum shuffle later and Doc is firmly settled back in the couch. It's impossible not to be pressed flush against some part of Raylan's body if they're both staying on the couch but at least neither of them are making a scene of it.

"Home..." When did they start thinking of this house as home? When did they get this comfortable that they're not shoving each other off the couch?

"...just give me five minutes." He'll get up in five minutes and stop hogging all this space, do something responsible.

[tinstar]

If there was one thing Raylan was sure about, it was that Doc wasn't going to tell anyone about this fracture of tough man Marshal mask so easily accepted by anyone laid eyes on him. The hint of real humanity that he had to keep in his holster most of the time. While there was still a fraction of his mind that would worry about it later, for now, everything was okay.

It was just as dangerous as anything else, but Raylan fully relaxed back into the couch, arm slipping forward to a more natural drape over Doc's waist. It was home, wasn't it? The place he stayed with people he cared about. Nothing was ideal, but he wasn't alone. None of them were. The worry he'd been holding for the past two days settled down in the back of his head - If Doc was here, Malcolm was too. They were back in a safe place for a little while.

A handful of minutes passed as Raylan drifted on the edge of going back to sleep, lulled further into it by the solid weight against him, and the rise and fall of steady breathing. But after a few more minutes, Raylan inhaled sharply as he came to again, letting out a soft, back of the throat noise with his exhale.

"Hey. People gonna wake up soon. We gotta get up."

[thering]

He covers the back of Raylan's hand with his own for a touch too long before moving his arm aside gently, complying wordlessly. Just once he would like to be as careless and irresponsible as he had been in his youth. But he doesn't think he can let himself get that way anymore. Once one leg slides off the couch, the other follows suit shortly, and then Doc is sitting up, hunched over with the base of his thumbs pressed against his eye sockets. He didn't have anything to get drunk with in the house he ended up, but he has been dead tired and it's a struggle trying to shake the sleep off.

"You can stay," Doc offers as he slowly moves to his feet. He reaches over for the throw that's draped over the armrest and drags it over to cover Raylan up, from feet to chest.

The cold is helping to keep him awake, though his movements are still a little sluggish as he ambles over towards the fireplace and tugs on his pants up at the knees to crouch down, inspecting what's left of it, the cogs in his head grinding slowly towards get it going again.

[tinstar]

The touches were familiar, even if the hand wasn't but he had enough sense of mind to not squeeze gently. He withdrew his hand to Doc's hip before it was gently placed further back and kept there. If they were more familiar, it would have found a place to prop his fingers on Doc's back. As they weren't that flavor of familiar, Raylan kept his wrist on his own waist and stretched out the arm that hand been cramped up under his head with a heavy breath.

The blanket was nice and he'd take the invitation to stay stretched out onto the newly freed space, half moon hazel eyes locked on Doc's shoulders as he moved around.

"You alright?" Raylan knew he wouldn't get a fully truthful answer, but he trusted that he'd get a general overview answer - Doc wasn't bleeding, hadn't lost any limbs but no matter what he'd suffered over the past two days, Something had Happened. They didn't have to talk about the details of it, but Raylan had to ask.

[thering]

That question gets a noncommittal grunt out of Doc and he tries and fails to stifle a yawn, squinting into the fireplace as if he could stare it down into submission and just start a fire with the intensity of his half-asleep glare.

Nope. Didn't work. He'll need to start over, light up some paper and build a little tent of wood around it.

"Well I was waiting to get murdered last night." Doc sniffles as he stacks his wood and gropes around for the matches. Is he doing talking right? He's not sure. "We were in the dark, with strange noises, seeing things. Had an odd dream, didn't help. Must say I much prefer this instead."

[tinstar]

"Clearly you missed train for murder. So long as none of us sprouted any holes," he rumbled in response with a bit of a groan as he pushed himself up onto his elbows to take a glance around the living room. Nothing seemed out of place - it hadn't been ransacked or shot up. Perks. With a sigh out his nose, Raylan shifted up to an upright position and tugged the throw blanket around his shoulders.

He'd woken up in what he'd gone to sleep in - jeans and his undershirt, but he would have liked his boots on, if there was anything up there listening; it was cold as shit.

"Wasn't dark where I was but the rest..." He took a deep breath and laid his head back, slouching into the couch. Nope, not ready to be upright, but he'd made it this far and he couldn't go back to laying down now. He might not get back up again.

[thering]

"Lord knows a great many people have tried," Doc mutters with a sad little laugh. It's a little sad really that for all the wild encounters that he had survived, it would be tuberculosis that would have put him down in the end. If there was a sad, angry, bitter little man upstairs then he did have a sense of humour at least.

"The power went out," Doc explains. He'll come around to explaining the other details later. It is too early to be putting on a grandiose talk about the past two days, and he probably would wait until they had a bigger audience so he didn't need to repeat himself.

It takes three broken matches to get the fire started but once it's lit he pokes at it to get the bigger pieces of wood to catch on. One look at their stockpile of salvaged wood and it's fairly obvious that they will be needing an axe to get through the winter, but that is another worry for another time when they're a little less sluggish and a little less spooked.

"Are you alright, Raylan?" Doc casts a sidelong glance over towards him. He's just tired, himself, and it feels like the kind of tired you get when you've had too much rest, but not hung over like Raylan is.

[tinstar]

Raylan didn't doubt that. If he could have more than four people vying for his own murder at the same time in modern times, he could only imagine the damage he could have done 'back in the day'. So there was no telling how many people someone like Doc got in his wake.

Raylan grunted from his spot, happy to wait til later so everyone could hear it at once. There was nothing more irritating than having to repeat yourself again and again so everyone got the story. "Least you started with power, that's not nothin'," he said. Knowing Doc's issues as he does, waking up in the dark was probably worse than having to go back to it sans power.

At the question, Raylan took a deep breath and sighed it out. "Same as you - no holes, I've got all my limbs. I'm fine. Nothin' a few hours of not thinkin' about it won't fix." The things that disquited him only really disquited him when he was still and in his bed. That was many many hours away, so he'd deal with it then.

"Got myself a hellva hangover workin' up though. Whiskey's a fickle lady."