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[devoutish]

[CAPTCHA-avoiding continuation of this post.]

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[bywolves]

[ It takes a while - thirty minutes or so - but slowly he starts to loosen up. He blinks his eyes open blearily, and stares up at Alfie, eyes fuzzy and vision slightly blurry. He's holding onto Alfie's hand though, stroking it idly every so often. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie meets his gaze, trying to look anything but tired and haunted. It doesn't work out so well.]

[bywolves]

[ It's okay, Alfie. Royce looks at him the same way, eyes finally closing again after a moment. At least he'll sleep peacefully for a while, not letting go of Alfie's hand.

And - well, in his sleep, anyway - his stomach growls low and painfully. Not that Royce notices, but it's loud enough for Alfie to hear. ]

[devoutish]

[Royce, you are immediately getting fed as soon as you wake up.

Alfie tries to settle, but he doesn't sleep - he just stays sitting up on the mattress, slumped against Royce. He idly scrolls through the network a bit, but doesn't talk to anybody. Not many people are talking in general, right now.]

[bywolves]

[ He sleeps for a long time. Probably past the time that the sleeping pills work. If he ever actually does wake up, he doesn't show it; he feigns sleep, probably for a good while. It's easier this way, if he doesn't have to move, or think, or disappoint Alfie. ]

[devoutish]

[While he's fake-sleeping, he might notice Alfie whispering - to him, to himself, even to people who aren't there, a couple of times. Usually, it's so quiet that it's unintelligible.]

[bywolves]

[ He tries very hard to listen, honestly, but it's difficult to catch what Alfie's saying. Eventually he just sighs and rolls closer to Alfie, shifting slowly to put his pillow in Alfie's lap and his head and about a third of his torso on that pillow. Better. ]

[devoutish]

C'mere.

[He tugs him even closer, aiming to pull him up onto his lap - though they're light tugs, and easy to resist if Royce wants to.]

You're so little, mate; you've fucking shrunk.

[bywolves]

[ He's fine with that. Pliant enough. However Alfie wants to hold him, he doesn't mind. ]

Was small before. [ Royce mutters. His speech is still sleepy-slush. ] You're just now realizing.

[devoutish]

You're littler.

[He fusses with the blankets, making sure Royce is still all tucked in.]

I could have carried you.

[bywolves]

Where? [ He's still tucked in, eyes closed and body loose. Those sleeping pills are really nice. ]

[devoutish]

To the grocery store for bread.

[bywolves]

[ Bread. Man, he really used to enjoy bread. ]

I don't. I don't want you to hurt yourself. [ Royce mumbles. ]

[devoutish]

I don't want you to hurt yourself.

[He says, sadly.]

[bywolves]

[ A pause, and then, exhausted: ] You can do whatever you want.

[devoutish]

But I don't wanna do whatever I want, mate.

[bywolves]

I don't want anything. [ Royce says, voice finally breaking a little. ] I can't. It - it isn't like I'm not trying, it just doesn't come.

[devoutish]

Then I suppose we'll do nothing.

[bywolves]

[ There's a long pause, and then Royce just sinks down. Okay. If Alfie's paying attention, he'll be able to see the lights flick off one by one. Nothing is fine. ]

[devoutish]

Royce, I don't know what to do.

[There's a note of desperation in his voice.]

Everything I say is the wrong thing, isn't it? I try to have you do things, and you don't fucking care. I don't, and it's as if you're disappointed in me.

[bywolves]

I don't know how to explain to you any more clearly that I can't care. [ Royce says, dully. ] It's gone. I'm - empty.

[devoutish]

You're not. Not entirely. I've seen the emotion come up.

You want me to fix this for you. I don't know how.

[bywolves]

I don't want you to fix it for me. I didn't ask you to. I don't expect it.

[ A pause. ] I can't - deal with -- I can't -- with Ecks, and -- [ God, there it is. There it is, rising in his throat, like bile. He feels like he's going to throw up, and he stops, breath a little harsher. ] I can't. I am -- I am this close to - to --

[devoutish]

[He shudders.]

This is worse than not dealing with it.

[bywolves]

[ He maybe thrashes just a little to get out of the blankets, feeling like he can't breathe. Pulling himself to his feet is a near impossible task, but he does it, and he goes - somewhere, he doesn't know, a bathroom or a back room or something - to throw up the nothing that's in his stomach. ]