[ karen's head is pounding. she's curled up on her bed, a spot she hasn't left in the last... what? hour? hour and a half? she can still hear the sound of the door slamming, and with each ring, each second that he doesn't pick up, her stomach curls tighter. ]
W-wade?
[ god, she's pathetic. this is a bad idea. she should just be sad by herself and get over it like she has before. but he's answered now, can probably hear her voice thick with tears.
ah- of course he's busy. of course this is a bad time. once again karen feels herself crumpling inward, feeling stupid. ]
Sorry- it's nothing. Nevermind. I'll talk to you later-
[Ohhh, no. Nope. That's not a good sign. Wade holds the phone with his cheek and shoulder as one of the raiders looks over, going are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me? Where'd you hide that goddamn thing? Which, let's be real. The answer for that is obvious.]
Hey, hey, Karebear, it's something. I'm not too busy for you. Never. [Call it girl power. He knows when a lady needs a willing ear.
Unfortunately, she might hear one of the raiders going this isn't a fucking joke, clown! as he grabs a knife, which. You know. It's cute, actually.] What's up? Motherfucker! [The knife finds its inevitable place in his upper thigh. It's always the same place. These guys are so tropey.] Sorry, not you. Stubbed my -- toe. You sound upset. Seriously. You okay?
[ karen thinks she can hear... something. happening on the other end. which really just convinces her that wade is very much too busy for this, and she is overreacting.
even so, it's nice to hear - i'm not too busy for you. never.
and whether he means it that way or not, she kind of... sobs? or perhaps coughs a little to cover up the sob, before a hand goes over her mouth. ]
It's just- [ but then she hears it again, a distant voice saying... something about a clown? and then wade's cursing, loudly, and karen jumps a little. ] Are you okay? What's- I can call you another time, it's okay, I just- [ she takes a shaky breath. ]
Logan and I are over.
[ and she is in desperate need of bestie time and to not spiral alone in her motel room. ]
[Yeah, that sound is the inside of Wade's thigh being turned into beef stew as the knife twists several times, but that's just an average day for him. He maybe groans, muffled, with a cheek covering the end of the phone, working one of his hands with several broken fingers out of some chains cutting off their circulation. Chains! Like he's a dog! They didn't even use a Scout knot.
Thing is, sounds like there's something going on on the other end, too. He's not deaf. But he might be, if they decide the knife should go in his ear next.]
I'm fine! Just turning out to be a spicier Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday? [No one still ever establishes what day it is.] You sound like --
[Like someone who got broken up with.
Well, fuck.]
What? How the fuck did Logan fumble someone so wonderful? [He pauses.] Okay, I know it's Logan we're talking about, so probably pretty easily, but -- do you want me to kill him? To make you feel better? Kare, I'll do it for free. At least a little light maiming. I promise, it's gonna make you feel way better.
[ it certainly sounds like something, though between being filtered through wade's cheek and the noises he makes, and the fact that karen's not so well-versed in the musicality of muscle, skin, and blood - she thankfully is not able to immediately place what those sounds are. just that they're wrong, and when added with wade's spicy comment, karen can't help the way it almost centers her.
knowing that something is wrong with him, or he's in some kind of situation, has her sitting up from where she's been curled up on the bed. ]
Wade, don't lie to me, not right now. [ which... does not have nearly as much weight as it would, normally. especially as she sniffs on the other side. ] Are you okay? Do I need to come find you?
[ not that she'd be able to do much except maybe be some kind of getaway car, or cause enough of a distraction that he's able to make his way out, or. something. she doesn't know, actually. doesn't know what she can do. she feels lost, and a little worthless, and really, really ridiculous. but if wade does need help, she'll find a way.
but then the conversation shifts, and she feels a little bit like she's been kicked in the gut all over again. that physical pain in her chest, her head. she squeezes her eyes shut, tries to find comfort in just about anything right now, but all it feels like is that she's drowning. the mention of do you want me to kill him punches a bark of a laugh out of her, and the pressure seems to break. ]
We both know that wouldn't work. [ which is an attempt at a joke, even when it hurts to say. she lets out a shuddering breath. he's trying, she knows he's trying, and that's what makes her feel better. she presses to the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, forces herself to take a breath. puts on the big girl pants who has been here before, has had her heart shattered and known it was also on her, before. ] No, no- I just. I wanted to see if you were free. Get drunk, do something, maybe sit on my bed and watch stupid movies. I just... I don't know. I need to not be embarrassing. [ like she said- bestie time. ] Just... whenever. When you're free.
I'm not lying! It's spicy. Like, at least Nashville chicken levels. [That's right, folks. We've got a real foodie on our hands. Speaking of, they didn't feed him the entire time he's been here --
Not important right now.] I'm fine! Promise. This is isn't even going on, like, the top 30 worst nights of my life.
[It's about to fucking be! one of the voices in the background promises, while another one, softer and more horrified, asks: how... how is he still talking? Why isn't he screaming?
That's probably not helping Karen feel better. As shitty as he is at this, he doesn't want to leave her hanging. Alone. It was already a sign of needing help that she called him at all. No way he's leaving his girl.]
It'll work. Just won't stick. [He gets a broken-fingered hand free and someone gasps, his fingers wobbling like spaghetti until the bones fix themselves. He's insane, the raider who turned his leg into meatballs says, jerking the knife out and backing up.] Hey. Kare. [His voice goes soft as he frees his other hand, fingers resetting.] I'll be free in, I dunno, maybe ten minutes. Anything you wanna do, I'm here. I can even grab beer on the way over. Or you want something stronger? Bet I can find moonshine. Probably not made in a toilet, but I'm not making any promises.
[ she can tell he's avoiding answering her question, which doesn't really help, but she also feels a bit worn thin from the day and doesn't know if she has the capacity to push on anyone else right now. not when some part of her is scared - irrationally so - that if she says too much wade might leave too. it's stupid, and a stupid thought, and she feels bad for even thinking it, but god.
she presses her palm to her forehead, hearing isn't even the top 30 worst nights and she forces down the worry. she knows wade, knows what wade can do and what he's capable of, but even as she hears a distant echo of it's about to fucking be! and some sort of struggle, she holds her eyes closed. he'll be fine. she asked, and he said he was, and she has to believe him. ]
Not helping your case. [ she says, mostly to his mention of the top thirty worst nights of his life, and how apparently whatever is going on with him might then be assumed to be in the forty worst nights of his life.
but karen doesn't fight it, and lets out a long breath - its still a bit shaky, but mostly exhausted. at his just won't stick karen lets out a long breath. the dark, angry voice in the back of her head tells her to do it, to tell wade to do it, why not? but even that roils in her stomach, and she thinks about logan, and her eyes start burning again.
there are noises and more sounds of meat and blades and something that very nearly makes her sick. she doesn't say anything, frozen a bit to the spot, right up until his voice comes through softer than it had been before.
hey, kare.
she's crying again, of course. quiet tears running down her cheeks. ]
If you're busy it's fine- just. Whenever you're done. [ getting tortured? being kidnapped? she doesn't know. what is her life? what is even happening right now? but he is coming by, that's what matters in the end, and karen feels a little more like she can breathe. he mentions beer, something stronger, and karen's eyes lift to the still half-empty bottle of whisky she bought logan for christmas. ]
Something stronger, harder- whatever you can get. [ somewhere, distantly, she wonders if he has any glaze on him, but even she doesn't say it. not that directly. ] It wouldn't be my first toilet moonshine. But I'm not drinking flavored shit.
[ she stares up at the ceiling of her motel room, for another few moments, listening to... whatever chaos erupts on wade's side. it's a few moments after that when she speaks, soft, a little quiet. ]
Just telling it like it is. [Look, he's not even trying to be dodgy. Getting held hostage by a bunch of dumbasses doesn't even make it onto any list in his brain, mostly because he's gonna forget this even happened in a week. Maybe even less.
He can tell she's not having any of it. Which. You know, he gets. She must be feeling like hell. He knows that like a third foot (if he had one). He knows what a breakup does to your -- everything. Your brain, your body. Your blood. When it really meant something? It burns something up inside you, something that wasn't meant to be turned into nothing but ash.
Thus: ♪ can beauty come out of ashes? ♪]
Harder? Oooh, girl, you're wanting to make mistakes tonight. Well, very lucky for you I happen to be an expert in making mistakes. [Like, the Gordon Ramsay of responding to depression.] I'm bringing over everything I have.
[Yeah, that includes glaze. Look, it's not for him to decide what she does and doesn't do, he's no babysitter. And he's not about to give her some fresh back-of-the-van meth. But a girl can get high and forget her problems for a few hours, and Wade won't let anything happen to her.] No flavoured shit. I'll drink the margarita mix myself if I gotta.
[There's the sound of guttural murder on his end, but this time, he's polite enough to cover his phone with a hand while he does it. He only needs one hand to use a knife, to be fair, and it wasn't hard to get the knife off the guy who stabbed it into his thigh.
He brings it back to his ear when they're dead. Less than ten minutes, even, and -- okay, he'll need a pitstop to wash the blood off, but he's gotta stop by the motel.] What is it, Karebear? I'm here.
[ she is certainly feeling like hell. so much that even when she tries to joke back with him, when she tries to shake the feeling that she's about to drown, she can tell it doesn't work. can tell that wade can hear it in her voice. were she more together, were she less pathetic, she might be able to fake it better.
she can't.
lucky for you i happen to be an expert in making mistakes. it's a bad idea. karen knows it, a voice in the back of her head that reminds her, an echo over and over and over. you're stronger than this. you're better than this. but as the words leave karen's mouth and wade mentions mistakes, the snort that follows is sharp. self-depracating. tired. ] That makes two of us. Experts in mistakes.
[ karen doesn't want to admit it, she doesn't, but there is a part of her that hopes for more than glaze. a part of her that feels young, in her boyfriends trailer out in the woods, scamming rich college kids out of their parents money. subconsciously, wipes at her nose, surprised she doesn't see blood there.
god - how much worse can this get? but at the same time, she does know enough to have him come over. to have someone here. maybe it won't even come to that (it will) - maybe all she needs is for him to come over so she's not alone in this room any longer. maybe they'll get drunk and she'll cry and he'll distract her with god knows what and she'll fall asleep to bad tv and wake up and it'll be better. it'll hurt less.
somewhere on the other end of the line there is more of those noises. something muffled but obviously off. she decides to just let it happen, to let the time pass as she disassociates, as time presses down on her more and more each second. she feels like trash, she feels like worse than that, she feels pulled apart and shoved back together and all she can think about is why didn't she keep her mouth shut.
it's less than ten minutes. she almost forgets what she wants to say. but then he's there, i'm here, and karen's crying again. ]
Thank you. [ for what? for everything? karen doesn't even want to think about where she would be if she didn't have him to call. doesn't even want to consider what she'd be thinking. she exhales, and it is easier. even if it means that the tears are also easier. ] Just- thanks. For answering. For coming over. I'm really glad I have you.
[And were he more -- well, whatever it is that makes people good and helpful and emotionally available, maybe he'd know what to say to brighten her up, make the hurt a little less.
Except he knows the hurt doesn't lessen instantly. It won't ever fully go away, either.
So what do you do? You bury that motherfucker.
His hands clench around the phone -- no longer having to hold it up with his just his face now that all his would-be kidnappers are, uh, "sleeping," at the sound of her crying. Fuck. Is there any guy who's strong against that sound? Karen's his best friend he's made here. It feels like a knife's twisting in his chest.
Thank you. Wade rubs his face.] You don't gotta thank me for anything. [Seriously.] You gonna be good while I go pick everything up? I don't mind staying on with you. Gotta make movie night plans, right? Look, I got some stuff that'll feel crazy on enough glaze. You ever been on Space Mountain with mushrooms? It's like that, but way worse.
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W-wade?
[ god, she's pathetic. this is a bad idea. she should just be sad by herself and get over it like she has before. but he's answered now, can probably hear her voice thick with tears.
ah- of course he's busy. of course this is a bad time. once again karen feels herself crumpling inward, feeling stupid. ]
Sorry- it's nothing. Nevermind. I'll talk to you later-
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Hey, hey, Karebear, it's something. I'm not too busy for you. Never. [Call it girl power. He knows when a lady needs a willing ear.
Unfortunately, she might hear one of the raiders going this isn't a fucking joke, clown! as he grabs a knife, which. You know. It's cute, actually.] What's up? Motherfucker! [The knife finds its inevitable place in his upper thigh. It's always the same place. These guys are so tropey.] Sorry, not you. Stubbed my -- toe. You sound upset. Seriously. You okay?
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even so, it's nice to hear - i'm not too busy for you. never.
and whether he means it that way or not, she kind of... sobs? or perhaps coughs a little to cover up the sob, before a hand goes over her mouth. ]
It's just- [ but then she hears it again, a distant voice saying... something about a clown? and then wade's cursing, loudly, and karen jumps a little. ] Are you okay? What's- I can call you another time, it's okay, I just- [ she takes a shaky breath. ]
Logan and I are over.
[ and she is in desperate need of bestie time and to not spiral alone in her motel room. ]
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Thing is, sounds like there's something going on on the other end, too. He's not deaf. But he might be, if they decide the knife should go in his ear next.]
I'm fine! Just turning out to be a spicier Tuesday. Or is it Wednesday? [No one still ever establishes what day it is.] You sound like --
[Like someone who got broken up with.
Well, fuck.]
What? How the fuck did Logan fumble someone so wonderful? [He pauses.] Okay, I know it's Logan we're talking about, so probably pretty easily, but -- do you want me to kill him? To make you feel better? Kare, I'll do it for free. At least a little light maiming. I promise, it's gonna make you feel way better.
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knowing that something is wrong with him, or he's in some kind of situation, has her sitting up from where she's been curled up on the bed. ]
Wade, don't lie to me, not right now. [ which... does not have nearly as much weight as it would, normally. especially as she sniffs on the other side. ] Are you okay? Do I need to come find you?
[ not that she'd be able to do much except maybe be some kind of getaway car, or cause enough of a distraction that he's able to make his way out, or. something. she doesn't know, actually. doesn't know what she can do. she feels lost, and a little worthless, and really, really ridiculous. but if wade does need help, she'll find a way.
but then the conversation shifts, and she feels a little bit like she's been kicked in the gut all over again. that physical pain in her chest, her head. she squeezes her eyes shut, tries to find comfort in just about anything right now, but all it feels like is that she's drowning. the mention of do you want me to kill him punches a bark of a laugh out of her, and the pressure seems to break. ]
We both know that wouldn't work. [ which is an attempt at a joke, even when it hurts to say. she lets out a shuddering breath. he's trying, she knows he's trying, and that's what makes her feel better. she presses to the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, forces herself to take a breath. puts on the big girl pants who has been here before, has had her heart shattered and known it was also on her, before. ] No, no- I just. I wanted to see if you were free. Get drunk, do something, maybe sit on my bed and watch stupid movies. I just... I don't know. I need to not be embarrassing. [ like she said- bestie time. ] Just... whenever. When you're free.
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Not important right now.] I'm fine! Promise. This is isn't even going on, like, the top 30 worst nights of my life.
[It's about to fucking be! one of the voices in the background promises, while another one, softer and more horrified, asks: how... how is he still talking? Why isn't he screaming?
That's probably not helping Karen feel better. As shitty as he is at this, he doesn't want to leave her hanging. Alone. It was already a sign of needing help that she called him at all. No way he's leaving his girl.]
It'll work. Just won't stick. [He gets a broken-fingered hand free and someone gasps, his fingers wobbling like spaghetti until the bones fix themselves. He's insane, the raider who turned his leg into meatballs says, jerking the knife out and backing up.] Hey. Kare. [His voice goes soft as he frees his other hand, fingers resetting.] I'll be free in, I dunno, maybe ten minutes. Anything you wanna do, I'm here. I can even grab beer on the way over. Or you want something stronger? Bet I can find moonshine. Probably not made in a toilet, but I'm not making any promises.
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she presses her palm to her forehead, hearing isn't even the top 30 worst nights and she forces down the worry. she knows wade, knows what wade can do and what he's capable of, but even as she hears a distant echo of it's about to fucking be! and some sort of struggle, she holds her eyes closed. he'll be fine. she asked, and he said he was, and she has to believe him. ]
Not helping your case. [ she says, mostly to his mention of the top thirty worst nights of his life, and how apparently whatever is going on with him might then be assumed to be in the forty worst nights of his life.
but karen doesn't fight it, and lets out a long breath - its still a bit shaky, but mostly exhausted. at his just won't stick karen lets out a long breath. the dark, angry voice in the back of her head tells her to do it, to tell wade to do it, why not? but even that roils in her stomach, and she thinks about logan, and her eyes start burning again.
there are noises and more sounds of meat and blades and something that very nearly makes her sick. she doesn't say anything, frozen a bit to the spot, right up until his voice comes through softer than it had been before.
hey, kare.
she's crying again, of course. quiet tears running down her cheeks. ]
If you're busy it's fine- just. Whenever you're done. [ getting tortured? being kidnapped? she doesn't know. what is her life? what is even happening right now? but he is coming by, that's what matters in the end, and karen feels a little more like she can breathe. he mentions beer, something stronger, and karen's eyes lift to the still half-empty bottle of whisky she bought logan for christmas. ]
Something stronger, harder- whatever you can get. [ somewhere, distantly, she wonders if he has any glaze on him, but even she doesn't say it. not that directly. ] It wouldn't be my first toilet moonshine. But I'm not drinking flavored shit.
[ she stares up at the ceiling of her motel room, for another few moments, listening to... whatever chaos erupts on wade's side. it's a few moments after that when she speaks, soft, a little quiet. ]
Hey, Wade?
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He can tell she's not having any of it. Which. You know, he gets. She must be feeling like hell. He knows that like a third foot (if he had one). He knows what a breakup does to your -- everything. Your brain, your body. Your blood. When it really meant something? It burns something up inside you, something that wasn't meant to be turned into nothing but ash.
Thus: ♪ can beauty come out of ashes? ♪]
Harder? Oooh, girl, you're wanting to make mistakes tonight. Well, very lucky for you I happen to be an expert in making mistakes. [Like, the Gordon Ramsay of responding to depression.] I'm bringing over everything I have.
[Yeah, that includes glaze. Look, it's not for him to decide what she does and doesn't do, he's no babysitter. And he's not about to give her some fresh back-of-the-van meth. But a girl can get high and forget her problems for a few hours, and Wade won't let anything happen to her.] No flavoured shit. I'll drink the margarita mix myself if I gotta.
[There's the sound of guttural murder on his end, but this time, he's polite enough to cover his phone with a hand while he does it. He only needs one hand to use a knife, to be fair, and it wasn't hard to get the knife off the guy who stabbed it into his thigh.
He brings it back to his ear when they're dead. Less than ten minutes, even, and -- okay, he'll need a pitstop to wash the blood off, but he's gotta stop by the motel.] What is it, Karebear? I'm here.
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she can't.
lucky for you i happen to be an expert in making mistakes. it's a bad idea. karen knows it, a voice in the back of her head that reminds her, an echo over and over and over. you're stronger than this. you're better than this. but as the words leave karen's mouth and wade mentions mistakes, the snort that follows is sharp. self-depracating. tired. ] That makes two of us. Experts in mistakes.
[ karen doesn't want to admit it, she doesn't, but there is a part of her that hopes for more than glaze. a part of her that feels young, in her boyfriends trailer out in the woods, scamming rich college kids out of their parents money. subconsciously, wipes at her nose, surprised she doesn't see blood there.
god - how much worse can this get? but at the same time, she does know enough to have him come over. to have someone here. maybe it won't even come to that (it will) - maybe all she needs is for him to come over so she's not alone in this room any longer. maybe they'll get drunk and she'll cry and he'll distract her with god knows what and she'll fall asleep to bad tv and wake up and it'll be better. it'll hurt less.
somewhere on the other end of the line there is more of those noises. something muffled but obviously off. she decides to just let it happen, to let the time pass as she disassociates, as time presses down on her more and more each second. she feels like trash, she feels like worse than that, she feels pulled apart and shoved back together and all she can think about is why didn't she keep her mouth shut.
it's less than ten minutes. she almost forgets what she wants to say. but then he's there, i'm here, and karen's crying again. ]
Thank you. [ for what? for everything? karen doesn't even want to think about where she would be if she didn't have him to call. doesn't even want to consider what she'd be thinking. she exhales, and it is easier. even if it means that the tears are also easier. ] Just- thanks. For answering. For coming over. I'm really glad I have you.
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Except he knows the hurt doesn't lessen instantly. It won't ever fully go away, either.
So what do you do? You bury that motherfucker.
His hands clench around the phone -- no longer having to hold it up with his just his face now that all his would-be kidnappers are, uh, "sleeping," at the sound of her crying. Fuck. Is there any guy who's strong against that sound? Karen's his best friend he's made here. It feels like a knife's twisting in his chest.
Thank you. Wade rubs his face.] You don't gotta thank me for anything. [Seriously.] You gonna be good while I go pick everything up? I don't mind staying on with you. Gotta make movie night plans, right? Look, I got some stuff that'll feel crazy on enough glaze. You ever been on Space Mountain with mushrooms? It's like that, but way worse.