righthemisphere | IC CONTACT

Raleigh furrows his brow and looks from Chuck to Max to the leash in his hand and back.

"It was just a little walk. I swear I thought I left a note, man. I'm sorry?"

"You didn't leave a note. You just left. You took my dog, and you left, after you lectured me about trust and teamwork, set down a shitload of rules that we were both supposed to follow, and you just fucking left. I came home, and both of you are missing. What about this do you not understand isn't fucking okay?!"

It hurts. It hurts that Raleigh doesn't care, that he thinks its fine to have a double standard and practically force Chuck into a fucking curfew and abide by all these rules while Raleigh gets to flounce around and...do what, exactly.

Were Raleigh in his right mind, well, he never would have left to begin with but he would have absolutely called Chuck to tell him what he was doing.

But October is affecting everyone in different ways. Raleigh isn't aware he's under the influence. He has no excuse as far as he knows. And no real explanation other than he just did it.

He swallows and sniffs absently, thumbing his nose as he thinks.

And he thinks he really doesn't like getting yelled at.

"I hear you." Slowly. There is almost a slur in his tone but there isn't any alcohol on his breath. His tongue might be a little red. Like he's been drinking something deep and thick and full of iron.

Or maybe Chuck is just seeing things again.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking, okay? You're comin' down on me, man." At which point he leans down to take his bloody boots off and leave them by the door, swaying a little as he does so and only barely catching himself with his hand against the house.

"Whoo- shit."

Nah nah nah, he's got this. Him? Drunk? Naahhh

"Do you?" He asks, shrill, fingers wrapping tightly around his biceps, digging into his armor. "Do you hear me? I don't think you do!"

He reaches to snatch Max's leash out of Raleigh's hands, because this absolute fuckin tool looks shitfaced.

"Are you drunk?!" He asks, disbelief and rage and fury clouding his face.

"No," Raleigh snaps back, indignant.

"Where would I have got that from and I never would have gone out drunk, either. Shut, Chuck. Fuckin'.." shoes off. There we go. Success.

"Making shit up to be mad at me about, now."

Moving to brush past him and come into the house.

"Because you can barely stand up straight?! Ray--hey, we're not done!"

Chuck leans to unhook Max's leash to let him in the house, and the dog goes scurrying into Chuck's room to escape all the yelling.

"Raleigh," he snarls, storming after him. "Are you even---does it even matter to you?! That--that I'm--" Upset. Hurt. Angry.

He was terrified when he came home and you were both gone.

Raleigh turns to look at him. He's annoyed. Chuck is yelling. He really doesn't have the fucking patience for this shit.

"You're pissed, I know," he cuts in before Chuck can finish his thought.

"I can see that." He snaps again, gesturing at Chuck.

"I said'm sorry. It was fine out there and Max was freakin' out so I took 'em on a walk. I get it. Okay?"

He doesn't really hear himself. He doesn't hear the slurring. He doesn't realise he's unsteady on his feet. He feels fine. He feels Great, actually. Better than he has in a while.

"Can you just chill out?"

"We got some.. fuckin' incense man. We were taking care of business."

“So— so you don’t. You don’t care. You don’t even give a shit, you’re not even SORRY—“

No. No no no no. Fuck this guy. How dare you. How DARE you—

Force him into all these rules, said all that bullshit, you lied to him, you LIED!

“How dare you,” he breathes, eyes bright and glassy from unshed tears. “How dare you.”

See. The thing is. Chuck is completely within his rights here.

Completely.

And Raleigh deserves the smack down hurtling towards him.

He just. Genuinely. Doesn't feel like it's that big of a deal.

Which logically should be a hell of a big red flag.

Chuck's face darkens, his voice sharpening into steel. Raleigh wets his lips and squints a fraction.

Okay. So this is really... Way more serious.. he said he was sorry but Jesus apparently that's not good enough. Typical.

"Chuck, I said I was sorry. I thought I left a note, I'm not trying to screw wth you."

It should be, but Chuck isn't in his right mind either.

"You're not sorry, though. You're not. You're saying it because you think it'll shut me up, because you think I'm gonna drop it if you just...say words you don't mean. God, fuck you Becket, I--"

He feels sick, he's so tired, he's spend the night fishing people out of bodies and blood and he's so...so tired.

"Fuck you!"

Raleigh clenches his jaw and with it his fists.

"Fuck me?! No, fuck you!"

Volume escalating so that it bounces around the room; loud and snarling.

"Don't tell me what I mean! You can be mad, that's fine but don't you ever put words in my mouth- fuck you, Chuck"

Which honestly is more of a warning than he's ever given in the past. He doesn't really want to fight. He doesn't really know why they're fighting but he's mad now.

“Then YOU tell ME! Am I wrong? Because I don’t think I am!”

You’re such an ASSHOLE, Raleigh. His dad was right about you. Getting tangled was a bad idea. You’re cruel, hurtful, and a liar.

“I don’t even know why you’re here - you’re full of shit, a fucking LIAR—“

Raleigh closes he distance between them in a heartbeat, fist curled in Chuck's front, snarling in his face.

His other fist is raised, ready to strike, but he doesn't.

Their faces are very close. He is very, very close to punching Chuck in the throat.

It's an intense, acidic moment of will they won't they and before Chuck can hit him or slap him off and back Raleigh shoves off.

"You know what? I don't need this shit. Not from you, not from anyone. I'm sick of pandering to your vanity."

He could fight. Instead he leaves. Picks up his camera bag and wrestles it open enough to rip out the hank of incense he'd collected. He swears to himself- fuck this, fuckin'bullshit I made a mistake emotional fuckin'- and slams it down on the floor on his way out.

He’s almost waiting for raleigh to hit him. Boo him in the nose like he did in the Dome. Fight chuck for his brutal words and sharp tongue. And he doesn’t - he turns coward, and—

Course he does.

“Vanity, WHAT vanity—“ he snarls, eyes red. “You— fuckin useless, yeah, go on then, love. Leave. You’re fuckin good at that, aren’t you? Go on, then. LEAVE!”

It's rage, then. He should walk away. He really, really should. And he does.

But Chuck's words sling like arrows into his back and he sees red and he Could fuCKING KILL HIM!

Frothing with anger, Raleigh looks around and grabs the heavy, oak side table by the front door. He gives a feral roar and rips it away from the wall- sending it's contents smashing over the floor- before slamming open Chuck's door and stalking out into the night

Jesus, Raleigh.

Chuck watches Raleigh smash his table, the little vase and careful knick knacks smashing to the floor. The place is basically a replica of his grandparents - it could be argued Raleigh just smashed heirlooms, but Chuck's to pissed to even focus on that.

"WOW, dramatic much?! Pissed cause I'm calling you out? Fine- get out, get out of my house, you fucking liar-"

He'll stand in the doorway, face red and ugly, furious, devastated. He hates this place. He hates this place and it's false hopes and dreams, for giving him a few moments of beauty before revealing its ugly truths.

"Coward," he screams into the night at Raleigh's receeding back. "Coward! I hate you, I hate you--"

IC CONTACT

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