Not hungry. [ Royce mutters. He doesn't know where they are, or what day it is, or anything other than he wants to sleep forever. Maybe he'll die in his sleep. That'd be easy. He just wants easy.
He shivers and grabs for the blankets, trying to put them over Alfie, too. The sun is gone. The temperature is far, far into the negatives. ]
[ Royce covers him in blankets, half-assed, and then sinks back down to pass out again. And this time, he dreams.
This time, he dreams of the sun, dreams of riding Mouse out in tall fields of grass, Hadrian whistling behind him. It's bright and it almost hurts his eyes and he welcomes it. He dreams of reaching for the sun, tilting his head back to feel it, and not being able to. It's cold. The sun is there but there's no warmth, and in his sleep he cries, tears dripping down his cheeks. ]
[ When he actually wakes, maybe an hour later, he slowly opens his eyes. He's in so much pain he can't actually sleep - it was bearable before, but the shivering is making it worse. The shivering makes his bones throb. He doesn't say anything, just reaches up to hold onto the front of Alfie's shirt. ]
[ He doesn't say anything, just holds. He's awake, sure, but he's distant again, staring down at the mattress. He doesn't pull away, though. He'll take the comfort. ]
[It's cold comfort, Alfie thinks; it's not enough. He stares at their hands, and then lets his fall onto his leg. Does it really make any sort of difference?]
[ There's a pause, and then Royce shakily pulls his hand back and curls it to his chest. Okay. He probably doesn't deserve it. It's okay. It takes him a long moment to figure out how to form words, and when he does, they're quiet and blank. ]
[ Royce stares out across the room, not moving much. He'll take the pill if offered, not bothering to sit up and drink water with it. He hasn't had anything to eat in a while. ]
[ Oh. Okay. He takes the bottle from where he's laying, obediently, and then proceed to struggle with opening it. He can't seem to do it and what's worse is he doesn't even seem to be humiliated by it like he used to, doesn't take it as a challenge. It's just another thing to occupy his attention. ]
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[But he's already starting to set Royce down. He's not going to force him.]
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He shivers and grabs for the blankets, trying to put them over Alfie, too. The sun is gone. The temperature is far, far into the negatives. ]
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This time, he dreams of the sun, dreams of riding Mouse out in tall fields of grass, Hadrian whistling behind him. It's bright and it almost hurts his eyes and he welcomes it. He dreams of reaching for the sun, tilting his head back to feel it, and not being able to. It's cold. The sun is there but there's no warmth, and in his sleep he cries, tears dripping down his cheeks. ]
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He's too tired to cry himself.]
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[He coughs, stroking unsteady fingers over the back of Royce's hand.]
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Should take Vicodin and sleep.
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Okay.
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[He's just. Trying to get Royce to do as much for himself as possible.]
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