[Original | Schrödinger's Door]
I'm tentatively trying to get back into doing short daily drabbles. ...Yeah. Kind of inspired by this post
cw teen runaways, referenced child abuse but nothing remotely explicit. This is markedly tame compared to what I'd normally write for these two
The motel is the bare minimum, at best.
O'Malley slowly sets his backpack down—torn and barely holding together. He should've grabbed the one Gary got him, but… this one was already packed. Using the new one would just encourage grabbing non-essentials. There's a sickening familiarity in the air—smoke and alcohol and stale attempts to clean any of it—that makes his insides twist, even as the rest of his body relaxes. Enough he hardly registers the ghost of a touch along the small of his back. Barely there. Careful not to aggitate the canvas of bruises.
"It's only for tonight, Mal."
The walls are thin. He can hear a TV further down the line. A phone call. A dispute.
It feels like being back in their apartment. It makes his skin crawl, waiting for an inevitability that… shouldn't come. He shakes off to get away from Gary's hand and rotates his head, slowly, like he's trying to work out the stiffness of being cooped up in a car for most of the day.
"Yeah… it's— …it's fine." The bed is weirdly firm for the way it dips. He's only half aware that Gary's moved his backpack closer, so it's resting against his leg. That his own suit case—an old carry-on sized, roller bag with a duffle bag on top—is carefully nudged under the bed. "… Surprised they had a single."
"As am I, I assure you." O'Malley hisses when a hand pushes his hair out of the way, and bites. He misses and, much to his displeasure, Gary doesn't take the hint and simply puts his hand back to O'Malley's forehead, even when he has to avoid another bite. He finally gets bitten after the ffith attempt—O'Malley… allows the asinine check of his temperature. Long enough Gary's apparently satisfied and no longer interested in protecting his hand. He doesn't try to get free of the bite, even when O'Malley simply tries to bite as hard as he can, past a brief, half-hearted tug. "When you're done, there's a shower. I doubt it's anything spectacular but… I'm sure we'd both benefit from at least a quick rinse. It's supposed to be just as suffocating tomorrow in the heat and humidity departments."
O'Malley wrinkles his nose and finally, slowly, releases the chomping grip on the other boy's hand. Gary only glances at the bite marks long enough to ensure blood wasn't drawn, before he gestures back towards the odd corner of the motel.
"... You go first." Gary's eyes narrow and O'Malley quickly turns his attention literally anywhere that isn't making eye contact. "Can't promise I won't if I go first."
He's not interested in running right now; and, Gary seems to realise how serious he's being. That that particular intrusive though could win out at the drop of a dime. The only reason it isn't right now is because he's been in a car all day and… as much as Gary doesn’t like the motel—neither of them do, but… as much as Gary doesn't like it, this is normal for O'Malley. And the longer he has to be… "normal", the longer he has to consider getting away from normal.
Another quiet growl, when Gary leans over to kiss his hair—when he mutters I'll be quick—is meant to be a warning. But, there's no real conviction to it. O'Malley lets out a slow breath and slowly lies back on the strange mattress, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the static around him. The shower is loud enough to at least… muffle the noise in the other rooms. Most of the noise. His body jolts and tenses, every few minutes, when he hears a sudden crash—whether from a TV or from the room with loud voices—and he has to force himself to breathe slow.
They aren't here. We're three days out, now. They aren't here.
Gary had turned his phone off near the end of the first day. His cousin had called ten times throughout the day—once an hour, trying not to be overbearing while simultaneously being that little bit too worried. His mother had only called once. Gary ignored the voicemail. O'Malley listened to it, when he couldn't sleep, while Gary got them some small quick thing from a corner store. She wasn't mad at them—at… Gary. She wasn't mad at O'Malley, either; but, more importantly, she wasn't mad at her son. His father hadn't called, yet. Either deterred by his mother or he just… didn't notice or care. He'd never liked O'Malley, even when he was mcuh younger.
Gary had deleted the voicemail as soon as he noticed O'Malley had listened to it.
A few other… friends? Were they still friends? Not with O'Malley, maybe—probably not with Gary, either, honestly. … Theo probably still thought they were friends. He's not sure how the Hell Eddie got the number. Theo's the only one that made sense to call—and all he had done was make sure O'Malley was with Gary. They'd spent a little while talking, when Gary passed the phone over. Theo promised to try telling the others to stop bothering them; but, had also been the only one to ask if he could call later.
O'Malley had promised to call when things settled down a little bit. Gary had just given him a pointed look that said he knew it was a pretty lie to make things seem okay.
He's surprised he doesn't jump when he feels a hand on his forehead again and just stares, blankly, at the other boy. Gary clearly hadn't bothered to do much past cleaning the layer of sweat from his body. His hair looks like it's just been wet through. The hotel towel is barely enough to hold at his waist proper. Normally, O'Malley might be in a more chaotic mood. Gary definitely notices—there's a brief moment where the wary concern is almost surprised when the towel isn't immediately stolen; but, just as quickly, he's doing his best to look neutral again.
"There's actually water pressure. Go on."
"... Probably not an actual tub, then, is it?"
A dry laugh and a negative shake of the head. "We'll find somewhere with a bath tub eventually. Sorry."
O'Malley makes a show of biting at his hand again—not a serious attempt and Gary avoids the bite by instead running his hand back through the mess of red curls that have been plastered to O'Malley's face all day from the sheer heat. A brief touch before he sets about to dressing for the evening and O'Malley finally rolls off of the bed to shuffle towards the bathroom.
It isn't anything special but it's still nicer than the apartment bathroom. As a bonus, as he turns the water on and lets the rush of sound drown out everything around him again… it feels like the water can get pretty hot, too.
The shower heats, quickly, apparently picking up from where it left off from Gary exiting barely minutes prior. O'Malley quickly kicks his clothes off to the side, without any care and in a desperate attempt not to take notice of the large mirror. An effort made easier when he spots the neat pile Gary left his own clothes in and chooses the distraction of swiping them into the same pile his own clothes are left in before he finally steps into the shower. It's a small rectangle but there's enough room for him to move around, at least. Enough room he can slide down the wall opposite of the head and let the water beat down on him, as hot as he can get it and he lets out a few measured, slow breaths through his nose.
Three days.
They've been driving for three days.
O'Malley hasn't met the purposed relatives Gary mentioned helping them. It wasn't the initial plan. O'Malley didn't want anyone to know where he went… and, not for the first time, he wonders if it was really worth telling Gary he wanted to leave. He'd just wanted to be dropped off at the bus station. He hadn't had a plan per se… and he'd maybe suspected Gary would maybe insist on coming with him. But he hadn't planned on Gary having a plan. He hadn't planned on agreeing to a plan or even to letting the younger come with him. They're both still waiting for this to blow up—Gary's still seventeen for another two weeks. O'Malley's been eighteen for months. Maybe the relatives was just a pretty fabrication to keep him being labeled a runaway.
O'Malley finally lets his eyes open—stubbornly pushes the distracted thoughts aside—and slowly looks down at himself. The bruises are finally starting to turn purple. The defined boot print against his ribs is finally just a hideous splash of purple and red and yellow and brown. The back of his neck hurts; but, when he reaches back to touch it, he doesn't feel raised skin, anymore. It doesn't feel like a burn, anymore. He assumes he just fell asleep weird in the car. His legs are finally just that hideous, sickly yellow and green. It's still… vivid, against how pale he normally is. …He's starting to turn red beneath the water and it looks a little less vivid.
Or, maybe it has something to do with his vision blurring.
Blurring and he's becoming aware of the uneven rhythm to his breathing as reality finally hits him. The same as when he ran away from the apartment and… more or less moved into Gary's house and, quite specifically, his room, months ago. His mother hadn't said anything, really; she'd smiled and offered O'Malley a hug. Had said she missed him coming over. Hadn't been remotely opposed when Gary fed her a lie about O'Malley not being able to go home. He… could. He didn't want to go back to that deteriorating cage. But he could.
He had. Multiple times. While Gary was at school and his mother at work and O'Malley was left alone to the intrusive and horrifying thoughts that came with being in a place that didn't smell like smoke and alcohol and expired and rotting fast food. He'd gone back—not for long. Long enough to make sure he had the few things he wanted to keep. Long enough to pilfer things to pawn.
Long enough to remember why he left.
He doesn't realise he's crying—that he's pulled himself into an upright fetal ball—until he feels someone trying to unwrap him from himself and he instinctively clamps his mouth shut to muffle any noise. When clamping his mouth shut makes it impossible to breath as his body is still trying to relieve itself of stress by forcing the sobs from his lungs.
It takes longer than he's willing to admit to, to realise Gary's in the shower with him—doesn't seem to care his sleepware is getting soaked through, as he curls over O'Malley and… he might be talking.
It's okay, Mal.
It's not.
We're okay. You're okay. We're going to be fine.
He's not. Gary might be. O'Malley won't be. He's not allowed to be fine. He's too tired to argue or fight, this time. He doesn't bite or scratch or try to get away like he normally does. He doesn't cling. But he doesn't fight back. He doesn't struggle when Gary pulls him up right and works on drying both of them off. He doesn't fight having his hair dried or being dressed in clean clothes.
He does, however, bite at Gary's fingers when the other tries to get him to drink a bottle of water. It doesn't do anything to deter him and he gets O'Malley to tilt his head enough that he can drink the water without too mcuh more fuss.
He's too tired to fuss any further. Even when Gary gets him to lie down and wraps him up in a secure hold. O'Malley doesn't make his normal protests of being cuddled up to like a stuffed toy. He does bite Gary a good while later, as he's finally falling asleep when he realises that he's being used as a stuffed toy and Gary didn't bother getting the tattered old stuffed shark out of his backpack for O'Malley.
The oversight is corrected with a few more aggravated bites. He hears Gary grumble something that sounds suspiciously like a slight against the shark. O'Malley just pulls it close to his body and settles, even when he feels arms close around him once more.
"You got him for me."
"I regret everything about that decision. Six year old me was a moron. Clearly."
"He was. You're not much smarter, to be honest." It's not what he means to say. But, Gary just gives a tired snort and nuzzles, gently, at O'Malley's shoulder. He assumes it's the only spot that doesn't look to be in some stage of recovery.
"I'm aware. Go to sleep, Mal."
[♠]
Eons ago, I used to write RvB fanfic. The characters were... definitely heavily interpreted into things that did not reflect canon, at all. So this is... technically based on old RvB fanfic that I... don't think is actually available anymore? I definitely repurposed them into OCs, regardless
