[ At least this time he doesn't seem to mind the touching. He's freezing, though, even with the blankets. Mostly, Alfie will just see him gritting his teeth. For as much as the lights are out in his head, it doesn't stop his whole body from throbbing, his poisoning flaring up horribly. ]
[ He's not hearing it - not out of stubbornness, not ignoring Alfie, just. Distance. He's not there. In fact, he looks up vaguely at the sound of Alfie's voice, but the look he gives Alfie is empty. It doesn't even look like he recognizes Alfie, he just looks at the source of the sound and then back down again. ]
[Alfie sighs, shivering pretty hard himself as he curls into his own blanket.
After a few minutes of silence, he starts to hum under his breath. It's the melody that Royce had hummed once, the half-remembered one from his childhood.]
[ It takes a couple of moments of Alfie humming for the sound to actually make it to Royce. Without looking up, he slowly leans closer to the sound, breathing stuttering a little. ]
[When he runs out of that tune (and it doesn't take long, being half-remembered and all), he switches to the more familiar melodies of his childhood. He tries to sing, a couple of times, but his voice always cracks and it makes his throat hurt, so he switches back to humming.]
[ Royce's fingers twitch, through all of it. He's trying, now, trying to stay out. It hurts too badly to be present so he just isn't, but the songs pull him out of the fog. It's the cracking of Alfie's singing voice that has him reaching out from under the blankets to grab at whatever of Alfie's he can reach, holding on so tightly it probably hurts. It might be a little surprising how tight his grip is, honestly. ]
[It hurts less than it does to have him flinch or pull away, so he makes no complaints, letting Royce hang onto his arm with a vise grip. Tentatively, he drops his free arm over his shoulder, ready to pull back if he needs to.]
[ His breathing comes short and pained, but he doesn't move away. It doesn't seem to be because Alfie's touching him, at least. He bites at his tongue, at the inside of his cheek, tastes blood. His stomach rolls and twists, a confusing mix of starving and nauseated. ]
[ He's silent, aside from his labored breathing, but he doesn't resist. He slides down, like losing any strength he had to keep himself upright, and slumps against Alfie's side, staring dully at the mattress underneath them. Distance. It doesn't have to be physical distance, just emotional, he thinks almost absently. Just mental. He doesn't want to think about what happened, or what will happen, he's tired. He's done.
That's too much to think about as it is, and he gags slightly as his mind flashes on the sight and sound of the anomaly eating Ecks, tearing her apart. Fuck. Fuck. ]
[ He knows. And somewhere he's sorry that Alfie has to handle this, but he can't. The anomaly unlocked a door in his head and the tidal wave of Manzant and the Noisy Black that spill out is overwhelming. He can't close his eyes because he doesn't want to see what just happened.
There's nothing left. They're just going to die here. Or they'll survive for years, chased by themselves. He might as well be dead. This is Hell.
He feels sick, like he's going to throw up, and he goes very still because of it, trying not to move. He can't afford to lose what's in his stomach. ]
[ They are. He barely has feeling in them anymore, but even half-comatose he's aware that he can't afford frostbite, either. It's so cold outside. It's more cold than it's even been and it feels like the end, like the town is shutting down and his body is shutting down.
Does it matter if he ever gets up again? Royce holds onto Alfie's hands, trying to keep them both warm. ]
[He mutters, mostly to himself, and starts working to unwind the blankets around Royce, getting himself into them so that they can wrap up together and share body heat.]
[ Royce doesn't exactly help, but he tries to make it easy, at least. He's pliant, letting Alfie rearrange them, and when they're wrapped up together, Royce leans heavily into Alfie's side, shakily holding Alfie's wrist. They're both basically skin and bones, at this point; there's no cushioning or extra warmth, but it's better than sitting alone. ]
[ Royce goes willingly. He refuses to close his eyes, staring anywhere but at Alfie's face. Instinctively he curls into the heat, what little of it there is. ]
[ He knows. And he feels - guilt, intensely, when he can feel anything at all. He should be able to handle more than this, but he can't find it in him. He has nothing. Alfie, yes, but he's not sure he can manage to keep struggling to exist for one person. He knows he's selfish. He knows he should try harder, but he's tired, and he wants this to end.
There's no answer for a long, long time. Maybe an hour, and then, out of nowhere, Royce speaks, voice a cracked rasp. He quietly stutters out the prayer Alfie taught him a while back, the one he insisted they were going to say every day. There's no inflection or anything other than just an unsteady, monotone recitation, but. He tries, as difficult as speaking is right now. ]
[Alfie had started to drift in the silence, not particularly liking the idea of going numb but not sure what else he could do. Royce isn't going to be able to be there for him, and nothing he says or does is going to be able to help Royce - it's probably best to rest as much as he can, and then force himself to just get on with it tomorrow.
Royce saying that prayer, though. The tears come before he even realizes what's happening, and though he's not actively sobbing, he can't seem to hold them back. At least they're falling onto Royce's hair and not his face, where they'd freeze.]
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Royce, you're gonna shiver like that all night if we don't sit closer together.
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After a few minutes of silence, he starts to hum under his breath. It's the melody that Royce had hummed once, the half-remembered one from his childhood.]
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[He says raspingly, getting his own blanket around Royce's shoulders so that they can share it. He's shivering a little less now, at least.]
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That's too much to think about as it is, and he gags slightly as his mind flashes on the sight and sound of the anomaly eating Ecks, tearing her apart. Fuck. Fuck. ]
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I've got you.
[There's not much else he can say.]
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There's nothing left. They're just going to die here. Or they'll survive for years, chased by themselves. He might as well be dead. This is Hell.
He feels sick, like he's going to throw up, and he goes very still because of it, trying not to move. He can't afford to lose what's in his stomach. ]
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Does it matter if he ever gets up again? Royce holds onto Alfie's hands, trying to keep them both warm. ]
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[He mutters, mostly to himself, and starts working to unwind the blankets around Royce, getting himself into them so that they can wrap up together and share body heat.]
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I need you with me.
[He says when he's finished, murmuring quietly into Royce's hair. He doesn't expect a response, but part of him is still hoping for one.]
I can't do this all on my own.
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There's no answer for a long, long time. Maybe an hour, and then, out of nowhere, Royce speaks, voice a cracked rasp. He quietly stutters out the prayer Alfie taught him a while back, the one he insisted they were going to say every day. There's no inflection or anything other than just an unsteady, monotone recitation, but. He tries, as difficult as speaking is right now. ]
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Royce saying that prayer, though. The tears come before he even realizes what's happening, and though he's not actively sobbing, he can't seem to hold them back. At least they're falling onto Royce's hair and not his face, where they'd freeze.]
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