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[devoutish]

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[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. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie staggers to his feet and follows at a distance of a couple of feet. He doesn't actually go into the bathroom with him, but he stays right outside, leaning heavily on the wall next to the door.]

Do you need water?

[bywolves]

[ He shivers where he's collapsed around the toilet, breathing harsh. He spits, and then, wavering: ] Please.

[devoutish]

[Alfie shuffles in with a bottle, kneeling next to him on the ground.]

Can you--

[He's not sure if Royce can hold it, so he'll keep his own hands around it, unless Royce seems steady enough to take it without dropping or spilling it.]

[bywolves]

[ The first swig of water he takes, with Alfie's careful help, he spits, washing his mouth out. And then he takes another sip, dizzily trying to sit up. He's not sure when the last time he even ate was. He stays where he is, slumped, and then, soft and not making eye contact: ]

Just leave me here.

[devoutish]

You know I won't do that.