Raleigh Becket (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
righthemisphere) wrote2014-02-16 05:24 pm
righthemisphere) wrote2014-02-16 05:24 pm
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You've reached Raleigh Becket, please leave a message.
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So much energy.
It takes him a minute but Raleigh appears at the door. He doesn't look super hot but gives a thin smile and lets him in.
The fire is lit and there's incense burning both inside and from some pumpkins that have appeared on Raleigh's porch. Thy seem to give an air of calm and protection.
Raleigh himself looks tired. In sweats that are way too small for him and his undershirt that will never be white again after surviving two blood closets.
It's chilly but he can't face wearing his sweater today, he just can't. He hurts too badly and the wool on his throbbing skin is like torture.
His hair and stubble suggests he's been in bed all day. The air around him suggests he does not want social visits.
"Hey," stepping back to let Chuck in. Uncomfortable being seen in a low moment.
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He barges right in, avoiding the pumpkins and making himself at home.
"Do you not have any other clothes?" He asks, a little critically but he's not trying to be an asshole. "Why the fuck does it smell like a temple in here? The fuck did these pumpkins come from?"
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Raleigh gives a look as he closes the front, counting on his fingers as he lists answers.
"No, it's incense and it's supposed to keep monsters away, and the pumpkins do the same apparently but someone said they're haunted so I dunno yet."
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God Raleigh, you look awful.
"Cmon." He gestures Raleigh further in. "Sit down before you fall down. Want me to make you some tea or something? I brought a bottle of the pills. They're leftover from when Dad was in Lucky 7. Got about four more bottles, but you should really check the hospital. Sit. I'll get you some water, too."
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He moves a little, coerced into following Chuck towards the kitchen but he's slow and dragging on his right a little. It's annoying.. he'd been alright the last two days. Mostly.
But none of this is new to him.
"You don't have to do all this, I'll be okay. I'm used to it," as he watches Chuck come in and take over like he owns the place.
"I'm grateful for the pills, though. I've been a little worried."
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He fusses about quietly for a few moments, giving Raleigh time to sit down and absorb the fact that someone actually gives a shit about your sad, broken ass. He brought some chamomile tea because he wasn't sure what Raleigh had, and he'd been weird about the grocery store, so the likelihood of there being much was slim.
He'll get a kettle on to boil, the teabag fished from his pocket. A glass from the cabinet, some ice, and some water -- that's getting pushed in front of Raleigh himself.
"You need to stay hydrated."
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Raleigh takes the glass and drinks, not sure what else to do. No real reason to say no exception stubbornness and this is a small hill to die on for the sake of it.
"Yeah I will.. but the town seems pretty old fashioned. When were scans even invented?"
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"1967. But there's gotta be something or someone who can check you out. I mean it, Becket. Ask around."
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He just nods.
"Yeah, I will." Tapping his fingers absently on the glass before he shakes his hands out and rests them in his lap.
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“Why do you shake your hands like that?”
He’s watching raleigh very carefully, scrutinizing his every move. Something isn’t right here. At all.
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"Because they hurt, Chuck."
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He can tell the shortness isn’t directed at him. Still. He’s a prickly fucker so it does rankle a bit.
He decides to be more direct.
“Are you physically injured?”
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He crosses his arms and gives the man a look back.
“Show me. I have a first aid kit, Raleigh.”
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He's trying really hard not to be an asshole about it but today just isn't the day. Chuck is trying to help. He understands that. It's just frustrating.
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“There’s ointment and shit in it. Show me, Ray. I know you’re hurting but lemme help. I can help.”
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The left is bad but it's old. The right is new and swollen and disgusting, trailing from neck to wrist and then down across his chest and side before disappearing under the waistband of his sweatpants.
He turns, holding his arms out like are you happy now. It's all over his back as well. Something dark is looking out from his waistband on the back of his right hip, but it's ink and nothing to do with the damage.
"Ta daa" flat.
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"Jesus," he says again, exasperated as the kettle starts to wail, pulling it off and filling the mug. "Drink this, and stay put. I'll be right back."
He's going to go get some shit for you. Fucks sake, Becket. Do you now know how to take care of yourself? At ALL?
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Raleigh opens his mouth to argue but closes it again and sinks down in his seat. Is he sulking? Yes.
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Good boy. Sit. Drink your tea. Chuck will be back in half an hour with an armload of stuff. Clothes, the first aid kit, etc. you are such a stubborn idiot, Raleigh.
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But to Raleigh's credit he's still at the table and he's drank his tea- resting his head on the table cushioned my his arms. He could almost sleep. He wants to. So badly. But he doesn't have a prayer.
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Chuck is probably loaded on caffeine and wigging out because he can’t sleep, either. But he’s gonna take care of you, Raleigh.
Chuck Let’s himself back in, hauling the big backpack and some clothes in a bag.
“Okay, so. I have ointments, some muscle cream, and a couple pain relievers, which I think you need. I also brought you some of my shirts and jeans. I think... we get free clothes here? But I’m not sure where to go yet on that. But until we work it out or I make enough to buy us some this’ll do.”
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They've been pretty friendly since they got here.. they were kinda starting to find good footing before that.. but this is. Like actual friends, stuff. He is very vulnerable today and he doesn't know how he's liking being seen.
"I got through it last time, I'll be okay."
"You don't have to do all this, Chuck. Seriously, it's too much."
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"Ray, relax. Let me do this. I signed up for F.E.A.R., remember? If it makes you feel better think of it as me doing my job. Protecting the people. Making sure they don't do stupid shit like leave untreated injuries to rot."
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Be grateful. It's just difficult for him to accept it and not feel like he's being pitied.
Sure he dealt with it alone last time but it was bad. It was really bad. Really really... Really bad.
"They're not rotting." He says instead, looking over his shoulder to see. They definitely are going septic, especially where his blisters have rubbed against fabric.
Ngh. Maybe Chuck has a point. The surface wounds are he least of his pain and they sting and they're awful but they've only been one layer of annoyance in what's been a very bad pain day.
A sigh. He scrubs his face with his hands. Stupid, stupid trembly hands.
"Okay.." giving in. "What've you got."
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