OOM: Room 6620, #6

[the_gene_genie]

He knows he's probably in trouble as he drags himself up the stairs. He only went down to have a quick pint, and pick up some more wine. He's been gone about five hours now, he estimates, though it's really hard to care. Sitting on the garage floor after a scrap has left him stiff as a board, and freezing cold. The half bottle of Scotch - not to mention Guppy smacking him on the melon a few times - means his head's pounding. Everything aches, and he wants nothing more than to climb into a warm bed, and stay there forever.

But he can't do that. Enough of this. He's been trying so hard, but it's time to throw in the towel. He can't go through another encounter like that. All that's left is to tell her.

He lets himself into their room quietly, half hoping she'll be asleep but knowing he'd have to wake her up anyway.

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[the_gene_genie]

He frowns immediately, perplexed.

'Why wouldn't I try?'

She really thinks he wouldn't?

'I don't think I'll remember, but if I do, why would I want to stay away?'

[lady_bols]

'Well, I don't know.'

That's wrong. She does know.

'Because I've supposed to have moved on and not be in your life anymore? Because you think you're supposed to do this all by yourself, and as nice as this is, maybe -- maybe it's not what you want, ultimately?'

[the_gene_genie]

The frown edges towards a scowl.

'This isn't the same as that.'

He rubs a hand over his forehead, and takes a deep breath.

'Don't use my words against me, Alex. If I didn't want this, I wouldn't have stopped here and waited for you after...after it happened. I wouldn't have stayed here for the last week, putting myself through-


- look, can we just stop this? I don't want to go home on a row.'

[lady_bols]

Her eyes close as his anger flares. Again, she's managed to stand on his last nerve. Well, at least that much hasn't changed.

He wants this. He waited for her. He's stayed, for as long as he can. He'll be back. He's not leaving her (like her father did, like Peter did, like she left Molly).

And she's just trying to be honest with him. She can't just lay her fears aside and forget them, much as she'd like to.

'Yes, all right. Okay,' she says, nodding. 'It'll be all right.'

She touches his hand again, and moves away from his side, heading back into the bath, deft hands twisting the taps off. She dips her fingers in the hot water, and tries to think.

'It'll be all right.' She repeats the phrase silently to herself. It'll be all right.

[the_gene_genie]

And he can't do anything to allay them, except by lying to her. Which he's not prepared to do.

He watches her walk into the bathroom, and lets out a long breath. Lights another fag, and sprawls back in the bed. A nap is obviously in order. Things will look better after a sleep, probably.

And much as he doesn't want to leave her, he can't deny the tiny flare of excitement that comes when he thinks about going home. This time tomorrow, it says, a guilty voice in the dark. None of this will hurt any more.

He'll never admit it out loud. But it's there, all the same.