Graham Donovan (_backfire) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-01-20 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-06-30 |
I've thought about it for a while, and I've thought about the many miles
Who: Graham and Rigby and demon (NPC)... wait, demon?!
Where: Local convenient store
When: Afternoon/early evening
The day had been relatively slow and relaxing, all things considered. Graham had taken his time before leaving Jezebelle's home, still worried that she would be attacked when he wasn't around. If there was one thing he didn't stand for, it was someone having the balls to strike down a woman. To him, that was grounds for burning in hell forever. And people thought he should have burned in hell - at least he didn't smack some lady around. The only thing he was intent on burning was his cigarettes to keep him calm and relaxed, which was a problem when he realized the pack was entirely empty.
After an irritated sigh and a roll of his eyes, the fire elemental headed on out to hunt down his favorite brand of cigarettes, which was easier said than done. Not every place carried the imported clove, which ticked him off, but it was well worth the search. He finally came to a small convenient store at the corner of a block in town that had Djarum blacks. "Thank fucking god, only took seven stores..." Graham sighed then asked the cashier for two packs while grabbing a small handful of cinnamon tic tacs. Could never have enough of those.
And it was then he thought he caught someone from the corner of his eye enter the store. Someone familiar, and definitely someone he didn't feel like seeing - Rigby. True it wasn't as bad as it was a week ago, but it didn't mean that Graham was all giddy and shit to see his friend. And it didn't help that he found out the other man was the one who brought Autumn home along with giving her his fucking shirt. That ticked him off. It shouldn't have, but it did. Just when he thought his animosity towards Rigby faded away, it just flared right back up.
Rigby had spent the last few days laying low, as it were. Without any gigs lined up - though he did check out a few of the places he'd heard about from Noelle - he was content to hang out with Fina, practice a few tunes with her, and try not to worry too much about the whole situation with Graham and Autumn. At this point it was best for him just to keep his distance and whenever Graham was ready to talk to him again, then they could talk.
Or Graham would be just as likely to tell him to fuck off forever, which would suck, but only time would tell on that end.
If Rigby was going to stay much longer in Scarlet Oak, however, there was this little business about finding actual employment. He loved his music, loved that he could usually get by on gigs alone, but sooner or later the money just wouldn't be there. He'd given Fina his word that he'd try to stay, and that was part of it. Even if it was something that only lasted him a few weeks, it was better than nothing. Though he could have checked postings on Fina's computer, the idea of actually using the machine was somewhat foreign to him, so he went with what he knew: job listings in the newspaper. And where would he get the newspaper? A convenience store.
The voices in his head were nothing new as he stepped inside, though the fact that he could recognize one of them was. Graham. And apparently the man was pissed that he let Autumn borrow one of his shirts when he brought home from the hospital. Well, shit. With a shake of his head, he tried not to focus on Graham's thoughts as he stepped behind the taller man in line, grabbing today's newspaper and contemplating whether or not he should grab a six pack of something while he was here, too.
It was just a bit hard not to recognize Rigby, especially with the sad attempt of trying to ignore Graham. Sighing, he paid for his items, though didn't leave. Instead he spun on his heel to lean against the counter while staring Rigby down. "You left your shirt at Autumn's place," he mentioned so matter-of-factly, eyebrows raised and all. He whacked one of the pack of tic tacs against his palm before opening it, dumping about a fourth of the container into his hand before popping them into his mouth.
He was about to tell Rigby to do something about said shirt, because frankly, it was pissing Graham off. Even though Autumn was all snuggly with the new shirt she got from Graham, she still kept Rigby's around, and he did not appreciate that. Nor did he really want Rigby going back to Autumn's just for a lame ass shirt. Should've burned it when I had the fucking chance...
It wasn't so much ignoring Graham as it was trying not to pick a fight or make things worse. He didn't quite know where all this jealousy and shit was coming from, or why the fact that Autumn had his shirt was pissing him off so much - it wasn't like Rigby was doing anything behind Graham's back, besides helping a friend. He didn't know he wasn't allowed to do that.
There was no way to answer Graham's question, however, without pissing the other guy off, so Rigby just lifted one shoulder in a shrug. "Let her borrow it, seein' as all of hers were ripped up in the attack," he said. "I'll get it back from her the next time I see her." He could pick it up today if it was bothering the other man so much, but it really was harmless, nothing bad meant by it. Though he did have other clothes, he would be kind of pissed of Graham set the thing on fire.
"Just borrowing it? She got home and had a whole fucking drawer of clothes to change into, though she falls asleep in your damn shirt. That's just borrowing, huh?" Graham settled his eyes onto Rigby, not ready to let go now that his teeth were sunk deep into the matter at hand. He was probably just digging a hole for himself, but he had to vent. It annoyed him the second he realized Autumn was wearing it. If anything, Rigby should have been happy he didn't crash there, or else he would have received quite the rude awakening in the middle of the night.
"She also came home to find her entire place trashed, so sorry if gettin' my shirt back wasn't top priority in my mind." Seriously, what was Rigby going to do, demand she change right then and there? He didn't work like that, and Graham knew that. Rigby could understand the need to vent, he really did, but he wasn't out to get Graham. Even if their friendship was on shaky ground at best, he wasn't that guy. He'd gone to help Autumn because she'd asked him to. End of story.
He rubbed at his eyes, turning away for a second to pay for his newspaper. The cashier had a deer in the headlights look on his face, without any idea of how to handle their conversation either. Rigby didn't need to be a telepath to know that. "Look, she called me and I was just tryin' to help. You know I couldn't just tell her no, that I wouldn't come see her."
"Can't say fucking no to a damn thing in your life," Graham mumbled as he rolled his eyes. Now it was irritating him that Autumn decided to call Rigby instead of himself first. Well, they already had that conversation about why she did just that, but it still got to him. If Graham had common sense for all of two seconds, he would have left the store and forget about it, then probably take another week to calm down... but it was Graham, so that wasn't going to happen anytime soon.
"Funny how I tell you to stay out of the way with Autumn and myself and yet-" Graham chuckled slightly as he continued. "-you still seem to make your presence known. Way to fucking go, Rigby. You do a marvelous job at making people miserable, if I do say so myself. I would give you a bright ass gold star, but you're going to have to settle for nothing." And then the sarcastic grin on his face died down and went to a deadpan expression, looking on over to Rigby as he paid for his... newspaper? The hell?
If a woman asked him? Of course he couldn't say no, it wasn't in Rigby's nature. Normally it wasn't so much of a problem but damn if it didn't do anything but cause him shit since he'd gotten to Scarlet Oak. He didn't know why Autumn called him instead of Graham, only that she had and she needed someone to be there and that was that. It was done, and he was sorry Graham was pissed about it, because that wasn't his intentions at all. Not that Graham would believe him, or even understand, if he tried to tell him that.
So he rubbed at his temple, nodded his thanks to the guy behind the counter, grabbed the newspaper and started to head towards the door. "This was me stayin' out the way, asshole. She called, I answered, and there ain't nothin' goin' on so you might want to pull the stick out of your ass for a change. And I ain't tryin' to make no one miserable either, jesus! You keep actin' like I did all this just to piss you off instead of tryin' to help a friend, 'cause that's Autumn is. My friend."
"Well tell that to Autumn, because she doesn't fucking act like it." Once he snapped at Rigby, he stormed on past him, swinging the door open with immense force as he did his best to not bump into him walking on by. As much as he wanted to bump shoulders and watch Rigby fall to the ground, somewhere in his head he knew that wasn't the place to be making a scene. Normally Graham didn't care, but right then he just needed a cigarette to calm the fuck down. Once outside, he chomped on the rest of the tic tacs and swallowed them, ignore the ridiculously loud noise they made. With that out of the way he quickly lit up a black to take a much needed drag from. "Jesus fucking christ..." He grumbled while exhaling smoke, tilting his head back in the process.
Wait - then how was Autumn acting? They were just friends, last he knew. That comment just had Rigby confused, adding to the cashier's confusion in his head mixed with Graham's anger and this was just not his day. At least Graham seemed to have the same idea he did, not to cause more of a scene than their little spat already had. He followed the other man outside, intent on heading to his truck and back to Fina's place. The Ranger was about 15 feet away from him when he saw it, approaching the convenience store.
It was huge, it was dark, and to say it didn't look friendly would be a massive understatement. Rigby blinked, following the movement with his eyes, and he uttered the only words that came to his mind: "...The fuck is that?"
Yep, this was definitely not his day.
Graham was in the middle of another long drag when he realized it, too. From the corner of his eye he caught sight of the dark figure and immediately knew what it was - a demon. Another fucking demon. And said fucking demon seemed to be eying Rigby quite intently. "Oh fuck me...." Graham muttered to himself before removing the cigarette. "Rigby!" As much as he wasn't happy with the other man, he wasn't going to stand there and watch Rigby get killed by a demon. At the very least he could get his attention and get him the fuck away from the bastard. If only it was that easy...
So that was what a demon looked like. Rigby started to take a few steps backward, unsure if he should head to the truck and try to outrun it, or if he'd be better off grabbing the pistol that was in the glove compartment and trying to take it out himself. The demon was moving faster now, and within the time it took Rigby to think about what to do, it didn't matter anymore.
Because the demon was within the range of his telepathy.
It didn't even have to touch him to bring Rigby to his knees - the voices did that for him. Graham's thoughts were lost in the onslaught of images and words and voices that flooded his mind. He saw graveyards and corpses and bodies being torn apart - that was all this demon was concerned with, eating the dead. He didn't have time to be disgusted or freaked out by what he heard before there was more - the screams of the dying, the sheer pleasure the demon took in his work. It was like his mind had touched pure evil and his brain didn't know how to handle it.
Rigby fell to the ground, clutching at his head, the newspaper falling from his hands and scattering to the ground. His guitar was in the truck and it was the only way he could have blocked out the voices, but there was no way he was getting that far now. He didn't even know if the music would be enough, this time. This was worse than the Light of May. This reminded him of being a kid in Georgia and not having a way to get away from everything he heard, only a million times worse.
Watching his friend drop to the ground, Graham immediately dropped the cigarette as his eyes widened. "RIGBY!" He didn't have the slightest idea of what was happening to him, but the demon wasn't hellbent on ripping his body to shreds. Did it have a different way of attacking? From the looks over it, Rigby seemed to be experience a migraine times a thousand. As much as he want to run in and pull Rigby away from the monster, he didn't want to take the chances of getting in range of the demon to experience the same pain. And sadly he had no bottle of Chopin lying around to make an improv explosive. "Fuck!"
He moved in as close as he could to Rigby, eying the demon. It didn't look exactly like the one that had attacked Autumn, but it was still a demon nonetheless. Thankfully for Graham the demon seemed more concerned with Rigby than it did with himself. At least that bought him some time. "Rigby! The fuck is wrong?!"
No, the ripping to shreds part would come when the demon got close enough to him - but Rigby could see what it wanted to do to him. Rip him limb by limb and then snack on him like he was a bucket full of fried chicken from KFC. The thought made his stomach churn, or maybe that was the migraine starting to affect the rest of his system, he couldn't tell. At this rate everything broadcasting from the demon's mind was hitting him so fast and so hard that Rigby didn't know what was going on, aside from the fact that said demon was still within his range and maybe coming towards him.
Over that, somehow, he heard another voice - Graham's. And not his thoughts, his actual, real voice. The daylight was bright as he wrenched his eyes open, gasping for a second at the stabbing intensity of the pain. "My head," he managed to spit out. "Fuckin' thing's in my head."
The demon snarled. Apparently it didn't like the idea of its psychic prey having a friend to help him out. Though it was rather enjoying the man twitch on the ground below him, it turned, taking long strides towards their direction.
Oh lovely, now it was coming towards them. It was like a scene out of Jurassic Park or some shit, and Graham was pretty certain this thing could open doors and jump around like a spaz, as well. Taking a couple steps back, his eyes flickered down to Rigby, trying to figure out what he meant by it was in his head. Did it attack mentally? No, that couldn't be entirely the case, seeing that Graham was completely unfazed by the whole scenario. Regardless, it sucked that Rigby was more or less a vegetable on the ground being of no fucking help to him. Graham was on his on with this nonsense. "You owe me ten fucking drinks after this bullshit..."
Though Rigby seemed to be cohesive enough to talk to some extent, so Graham wasn't entirely in the dark in this matter. Stepping away slowly, his mind began racing, trying to come up with a way to either scare the demon off or kill it. If he had the time to kill and the supplies at hand, Graham could make another explosive to attack it with, but sadly he didn't have that luxury. The only thing that came to mind was chucking a match into the gas valve of a nearby car and hope the explosion would kill the demon, but the fleeting idea of trying to explain that one to the police after didn't sit well with Graham. If only he had a weapon, like when he killed the last demon. Wait...
"Rigby! Do you have anything in your truck? A knife? Gun? Bazooka? Nunchucks? ANYTHING?!" If he didn't.... well, maybe he could blow up his truck and maybe convince Rigby it was for the sake of his life or some shit.
Somehow it made sense that a demon would find Rigby's weakness and exploit it. He heard the thoughts of everything around him, it just never occurred to him that the same thing would work on a demon, too. He must have killed a whole bunch of people in a previous life or something end up with this for karma. Somewhere, underneath the layers of demon mindfuck that his brain had become, he was starting realize that his cover was blown. Graham would know what he was - if not now, then once this was over.
If he got through this, that was. The way his brain felt like it was imploding, Rigby wasn't so optimistic at the moment. When Fina had been attacked by a demon, he'd wished he'd been there, so he could have helped her. Now he knew he would have been just as useless as he was now.
He tried to roll over, get up into something of a sitting position, but between the images and the thoughts and what Graham was saying to him, all he managed to do was roll onto his side, eyes squeezed shut again. "What in the hell - bazooka?" For some reason he had the image of his truck blowing up and wasn't sure where it was coming from, the demon or Graham. "Glove compartment," he managed. "Gun." Shit, he was from the South, of course Rigby had a gun on him. Never really used it, but it was a necessity, just like why he also carried a pocketknife. It was just what you did.
Well, he doubted Rigby would have a bazooka in his truck, but is wishful thinking. Backing away from Rigby, Graham began to gradually make his way to the truck, and sadly for him the demon was hot on his tracks. Cursing under his breath, Graham reached out to open the passenger side of the truck when the demon reached him, pinning up against the vehicle. A sharp cry escaped him as he struggled with the creature, making sure it didn't try to bite his head off. Sadly the demon's strength was on par with the vampire he dealt with the previous night, which wasn't good for him by any means. Though Graham did have one trick up his sleeve that the demon didn't have - he knew judo and aikido.
With some quick thinking, Graham managed to hook his leg behind the demon's legs and swiftly knocked it off its feet and to the ground. A simple maneuver that bought him enough time to open the truck door and search through the glove compartment. And Rigby was right, there was a gun. Oh, how lovely, he didn't have to load it. Rigby did that shit earlier at some point for him. By then the demon had jumped up back to its feet and glared at Graham. And also by then Graham had the handgun pointed at the demon's head and shot point blank at it. He wasn't the best shot in the world, but it was hard to not miss when it was so close.
The demon slumped over dead once the shot pierced through its brain and now it was all over. Taking in a deep breath, Graham tossed the gun back into the compartment and slowly made his way on over to Rigby to make sure he was ok. "Hey..." He knelt down by his friend's side, shaking him briskly. "You ok now?" If he was, then Graham just had to know what the fuck was going on. Why was he being mindfucked and not Graham?
Rigby tried to watch the fight, he really did. And he wanted to be able to help, but it was like his brain had turned to mush and he couldn't get himself to do anything besides lie there in pain, with the images of corpses and blood and gore and the desire to have him dead, dead, dead on the ground filling his mind. Eventually he found himself lying on his back again, the pavement hot and rough underneath him, and the only thought that could come to his mind, in the middle of all this, was that Fina wasn't here to see him like this.
He could still hear bits and pieces - he caught Graham's cry out, and the gunshot. Oh sweet lord, did he hear that gunshot, and with it came silence... for about five seconds, but Rigby treasured it anyway. With the demon dead, the assault ended, every evil thought leaving his brain as soon as it entered. The migraine was still there, of course, and it would be until Rigby had a way to prolong that peace in his head, but at least it wouldn't get worse.
And, he hated to admit it, even to himself, but hearing Graham's thoughts was actually kind of reassuring, because it meant that his powers were back to normal. Graham he could deal with, he hoped. As long as the other man didn't then try to pick another fight with him, because Rigby was sure as hell not in the mood for that shit now.
Graham was shaking him and Rigby groaned, grasping a hand around the other man's wrist. "Don't shake, brain's already scrambled," he said, wincing as he managed to sit up this time, leaning forward to rest his head on his knees. "Not okay, not gonna die either. Suppose I'll just take what I can get." Graham wanted to know what happened, of course. This was going to be interesting.
Of course he wanted to know what happened. What was he going to do, get up and walk away and tell Rigby to enjoy the rest of his day? Hell no, Graham was going to figure out what exactly was going on. Sitting back on his heels, he let out a sigh of relief while watching Rigby sit up. True, he wasn't dead, but Graham was pretty sure the guy was still sore from being mind raped, for a lack of better words.
"The fuck was that all about?" Graham question with a serious expression strung upon his face. "When Autumn was attacked, she was on the floor in pain because it was beating the shit out of her, not because it was mind probing her. And damn fucker went after me but didn't rape my brain or some shit." Poor demon probably would have been in pain more so than Graham if that was the case. "I mean... are you sure your ok?" Graham might had been pissed at him minutes ago, but his friend could have died right before him, and he wasn't in the mood to deal with that shit. Not on his dime, anyways.
Mind raped. That was actually a good term for it, Rigby sure as hell wasn't coming up with anything better at the moment. At least Graham sounded relieved to see he was all right, which was more than he could have expected from the other guy. Graham was random enough that he could have walked away and let the demon get to him, but he didn't.
"I'm guessin' that's what happens when I meet a demon," he said, drawing a few deep breaths. The pain behind his eyes was less than it was, but the last time he'd had a headache this bad was the Light of May. It took another moment, but Rigby lifted his head to look up at Graham through squinted eyes. "Shit, you ain't got no idea what I am, do you?" Rigby let out a breath, nothing more than a puff of air. "I'm a telepath. I hear - everythin' anyone around me thinks. And that fuckin' thing shows up and suddenly I'm hearin' shit 'bout corpses and cemeteries and wantin' to eat me and a brain just can't handle that."
He paused, and he waited for a reaction. Something from Graham, either to tell him he was a freak (he'd gotten that before) or to ask why he hadn't said something earlier (also a reaction he'd heard, though much less often). "It's like the migraine from hell mixed with someone takin' a chainsaw to my brain at the same time."
Graham obviously had no idea that his friend was a psychic of some sort. Hell, he didn't know what he was until little less than a week ago. How was he suppose to know who was what these days? It was like trying to tell if someone was gay or not. If only gaydar actually existed, then they could start cracking down on superdar or something. Until then, the only way Graham could figure it out was if someone straight up told him, and Rigby did just that.
It was always hard to tell how Graham would react to something, for he was indeed random as fuck. Seeing that he went from wanting Rigby to burn in hell one second to sitting by his side making sure he was ok the next, it was a sure indicator that he stuck to his sporadic behavior. Before replying to Rigby, he heard several voices from afar, in which he looked over his shoulder to check up on. Just a few people from the store had popped on out, probably due to the gunshot, but were now freaking out over the demon. It could be their problem now. Graham wanted absolutely nothing to do with it.
"...telepath?" Bringing his attention back to Rigby, Graham could only arch up a brow in both confusion and shock. A gentle chuckle escaped him for mere seconds, but Graham was far from amused - he was quite pissed. If Graham wasn't blabbing his mouth off, then his mind was going more than a mile a minute, and always about random shit. His mind relapse back to when him and Rigby actually met. Shit, did he actually figure out about his drug addictions and criminal record strictly because he could tap into his mind? Then there was Detroit, where he could not stop thinking about Autumn. God, at least now that explained why Rigby was mildly concerned. Or even when they met up again in Scarlet Oak and he had thought about-
Oh, fuck me, no...
Graham didn't talk about Saoirse for a reason, and he sure as hell didn't want someone to slip into his mind and find some of his most precious memories and thoughts. Those were his and belonged to no one else. But Graham's anger evaporated when he realized one thing - Rigby never brought any of this up. But why? Was it because he had so many other thoughts invading his brain at the same time that he didn't realize it? Or perhaps he did know more about Graham than he let on and simply didn't care? That would have been a rare choice, but if that was the case, then Graham actually appreciated it.
As the other people came out of the store, Rigby flinched at the sudden addition of voices in his head. It did nothing to help the migraine, that was for damn sure, but they seemed to be preoccupied with the demon. He agreed with Graham - let them have the damn thing, it had already caused enough damage. Just because he was physically in one piece didn't mean he was fine, not by a long shot. Even the migraine he'd gotten in May hadn't been this bad, and he felt the nausea starting to sneak up on him.
"Telepath," he confirmed. "Ain't got no control over it, I just - hear. Everythin'. All the fuckin' time. Only time I can tune it out is if I'm playin' somethin'. You ever wonder why I cling to that guitar like Linus and that fuckin' blanket of his?" His acoustic really was like a security blanket, Rigby refused to go anywhere without it. Otherwise he wouldn't have a way to stop the voices. Didn't do jackshit in this situation, but that was besides the point.
For the next few moments, all Rigby did was sit there and listen, trying to figure out what Graham's reaction would be. Of course he'd feel violated, even if Rigby didn't mean to hear what he did, it didn't change the fact that he still heard it all. He knew about the addictions and that Graham had a criminal record, only that it involved Chicago. It wasn't like Rigby could dig through all those thoughts and find out whatever he wanted to know, it was only what a person was thinking at the time.
Finally, he lifted his head again and looked at Graham. "I ain't the kind of guy to use that kind of shit against someone," he said. "If anythin' you should know that. Ain't like I asked for this, like it ain't made my life a livin' hell. Your memories are your own, and I usually know when to leave somethin' alone." Like the Saoirse thing. He didn't know everything going on there, but that she meant a lot to Graham and, having met the young vampire, Rigby thought she was a nice girl, too.
Well, that explained like, a majority of why Rigby was a musician. At least he was good at it. Would have sucked if music was his only escape and he made a retard with pots, pans, and some wooden sticks look good. But Graham still felt violated, even when Rigby guaranteed that he wouldn't use his thoughts against him. There was far too much Graham wanted to ask him right then and there, and part of him didn't entirely believe him. Maybe he was making this shit up. But wait, how could he when there were fucking demons running a muck on the streets. If that shit was real, along with all the other supernatural bullshit going on, then so was this.
"Fuck...." Graham groaned, quickly whipping out his new pack of blacks again. He needed far more than a cigarette to calm himself down after this mess. A pound of blow probably wouldn't even relax him. Lighting up the clove, he sucked tremendously hard on it before exhaling the smoke. Still did nothing. Lovely.... It was like no matter what he did since returning to Scarlet Oak, shit kept fucking up. Badly. Everything was fine before he came back to his home town. What the hell was up with that?
"Were you ever planning on telling me?" He finally questioned, rubbing his temple before inhaling on the clove again. "Fuck, why didn't you tell me before?"
His music was a blessing, truth be told. It was Rigby's lifeline, and he'd be screwed six ways from Sunday if he couldn't play something. That wasn't something he wanted to even contemplate now, not when his head was throbbing this bad. The guitar wouldn't be enough to stop the pain, but he'd try anyway, anything to get a few moments of silence in his head. "I am sorry," he said. "And of course you don't believe me. My old man never did. 'Til I knew he was screwin' around on my mama and didn't let him get away with it." There was more to the story there, but that wasn't any of Graham's business.
There was one surefire way to get Graham to believe him - drop one of the man's secrets. But that would go back into using said secrets against him and that wasn't what Rigby was trying to do, at all. "Look, ask me what you're gonna - I know you want to. And this ain't the best time for it" - the cashier started yelling at someone else inside the building to come outside, and the sudden thought worked its way through his brain like a spike through his temples - "but shit, kinda late for that now."
Maybe they should head back to his truck, or something, anything to get away from the people who were starting to gather around them. Rigby and crowds equaled nothing but bad times all around. "Shit, 'cause I don't tell no one. Took me a while to tell Fina. Never know how someone's gonna react, and most of the time they freak the fuck out. 'Sides, been travellin' so long, easier to go if no one knows who it is that just walked out their door." He allowed himself a hint of a smirk for the briefest second, "Hell, I can never predict what might come out of your mouth."
"Well that makes two of us, because I don't know what the fuck I'm saying half the time either, you know." A bit of a chuckle escaped Graham while shaking his head. He was acting calmer, but he was by no means completely cooled off. Was going to take a while for that fire of his to burn down to nothing, but until then he had to sit tight and suck it up. At last Rigby didn't seem as pissed off as earlier. Probably helped that the two were finally talking instead of being too hyped up on testosterone to actually be civil.
"Alright, so fine, you read minds or some shit. Whatever. I can't burn to save my life and apparently if I try hard enough, maybe something will happen, like a spark. I don't fucking know. At least you got better handles on your fucked up life than I do." Jumping up to his feet, Graham ran a hand through his dark hair and sucked on the clove some more, flicking away the ash before staring back down to Rigby. "Actually, I'm convinced this town is cursed because nothing but shit has happened since I came back, and what scares me is that this is the tip of the fucking iceberg." He extended a hand out to his friend, offering to help him off of the ground. Couldn't sit there all night, and if what Rigby said was true about reading minds, then he was probably starting to get a migraine with the small crowd forming by the store. They had to get away from here. Well, get away from the area, not the town as a whole.... but that actually didn't sound like a bad idea.
Rigby wasn't stupid, he knew Graham was still kind of pissed at him. At least they were talking now without being an ass to one another, that was a step in the right direction. "Yeah, but that's what makes you fun to be around," Rigby pointed out, giving the man a small smile of his own. Everything else aside, he did enjoy Graham's company, even if he sometimes gave the telepath headaches.
In the back of his mind - what was left of his mind, anyway - Rigby wondered if he should tell Graham about Fina, that he knew a lot about fire elementals. It wasn't a conversation to be had at the moment, but maybe it was something to remember for the future. "Shit, I just know what I can and can't do, most of the time. This - this I didn't know." Seriously, he'd figured out he could hear vampires, as they looked like and used to be humans, but demons? That was completely new on him. Grabbing Graham's hand, Rigby hauled himself to his feet, stomach queasy at the thought of moving right now, but he sure as hell wasn't going to sit in front of the store like some moron. "Startin' to get a migraine?" he asked, uncaring now that he'd picked up that from Graham's thoughts, that he hadn't said it outloud. "The demon just exploded my brain and those assholes ain't helpin'. Leavin' is good right now." Anywhere where he could be away from a crowd of people.
That was one way to prove he was a telepath. Graham shot him a peculiar look, rather taken aback by Rigby's words, not because of what he said, but the fact he was more or less responding to his thoughts. Well, there would be no questioning him now, and Graham was far more than certain that Rigby probably knew way too fucking much about Graham than he needed to know. But that wasn't the matter at hand. Oh no, it was something else.
"That's a bit of a loaded sentence coming from you, man." He brought the clove to lips, inhaling steadily before breathing out smoke. "You're the kind of guy who says I'm going to go out for a walk and decide to go backpacking across Europe or some shit." Rigby knew what he was talking about, and if he didn't then the demon probably did a bit more than fuck up his mind. He wasn't the sort of guy who said something like the lightly. Rigby was a nomad at heart, as was Graham... and it didn't help that he was impulsive as hell and was starting to like this idea more and more. "Or am I reading too much into that? I can't read your fucking mind, Rigby, but that doesn't mean I don't know what you'd ideally do in most giving situations." Ok, so demons fucking his shit up was not a common situation, but at least he could now add it to the list.
Proving he was a telepath hadn't been his intention, at least not at that point, but at least Graham believed him now. It had been a long while since anyone was near him for one of these episodes and sometimes, he had a hard time telling if someone was talking to him or if it was, literally, all in his head, if he wasn't looking directly at them. And Rigby knew too much about everyone, not just Graham, and he wasn't the kind of guy to exploit that. At some point, maybe Graham would remember that.
"At the moment I meant gettin' away from them." They reached the truck and the demon near it, and Rigby stared down at the thing for a long second. He didn't even really see its face before it was in his head, but he didn't need to. Those thoughts would stick with him forever now. And yes, he was the kind of guy who could get up and leave at a moment's notice, and he couldn't lie, the idea wasn't a bad one. "I know." He leaned against the door of his truck, head thumping, trying to sort out what was thoughts and what Graham was actually saying. "Gonna need a few days away, I think. Get my head back on straight, find somewhere where there ain't no one and get some fuckin' peace." Maybe Graham could understand how rare a thing like that was for him. "What, you suggestin' we both bail?"
"I'm suggesting that it's not a bad idea," Graham replied, also leaning against, flicking ash at the demon before bringing the clove back to his lips. "I've been having shit day after shit day since I've came back and you just got mind fucked by that... thing... so I think that's grounds for packing our shit and going. Besides, I don't like sitting still for long periods of time, just gets to me." Not to mention it was hard trying to settle down after his four year long excursion. It almost felt like it hadn't stopped, like Scarlet Oak was just another town he was hitting up for a while before heading on back out. "Sounds good to me. I mean, the fuck do we have to gain from this shit hole anyways?"
Graham was right, of course. It was a good idea and at the moment, both of them could use a vacation from Scarlet Oak. Rigby needed to make his brain work again, and Graham, well... Graham just seemed to keep falling into a never ending string of bad luck. "I know exactly what you mean with the sittin' still thing," he said, rubbing at his eyes. Either way he needed to do something, this migraine wasn't going to fix itself, after all. "But I got Fina and I can't just go without talkin' to her. Ain't like I'm not gonna come back for her." If nothing else, Rigby was sure of that. He blew out a breath, "When do you want to go?" Tonight would work.
Oh fuck everything... He had almost forgotten about the ladies in their lives. For Rigby that meant Fina, and for Graham that meant Autumn and Jezebelle. He had more or less just left the vampire's house a while ago and didn't make it a habit to see her every evening, so he wasn't too worried about that. Next time he had planned on seeing her was to pick up some more cocaine, anyways, so she would hopefully be fine. Besides, she was busy rebuilding and restocking her business and Graham didn't want to be in the way.
But then there was Autumn, who he knew would not take the whole ordeal too well. She even admitted to Graham that she had abandonment issues and didn't like him leaving the hospital that one time without a word. He had to say something to her at the very least before going. And as he thought of that, his mind relapsed back to Saoirse and the night he pulled the douchebag stunt of leaving her without a word and just left a shitty note by her bed. It was like a take-two of the scenario all over again and for some reason Graham had a bad gut feeling about it.
Spinning around on his heel, he suddenly slammed his fist into the side of Rigby's truck to release any pent up anger he had, which was apparently a lot. Graham braced himself against the vehicle for a second, took a drag on the clove, and then sighed. "...sorry." Didn't mean to try and beat up his friend's truck, but it sucked being a fire elemental sometimes. "We can leave in the morning, if that's fine with you. I need to see Autumn and do more than talk with her. I need to make this night better than the last time I left." He wasn't going mentioned the last tidbit, but it was pointless when Rigby could just read hist mind. He was going to find out one way or another.
If Rigby was capable of shutting off his telepathy to let Graham have those thoughts to himself, he would have. As it was he slumped a little against the side of his truck, contemplating opening the door and collapsing inside it, but that took more effort than he had in him at the moment. Between Graham, loud in his head next to him, and the crowd beyond that, the migraine just kept intensifying.
It wasn't like he was going to have any easier a time with Fina. Maybe she'd been waiting the whole time for the other foot to drop and he would leave, Rigby wouldn't blame her for that. It was, after all, the kind of guy he was - a nomad at heart, the troubadour, always moving from one place to another. But his place was with her now and this wasn't one trip Fina could join him on. Hell, he wasn't sure if Graham should be joining him either, but they both needed to get away.
Graham's fist in the side of his truck startled him a little and Rigby looked up, blinking. "Hey, don't be takin' that shit out on my home," he said, wincing. At least it didn't look like Graham left a dent. "Morning will work. Not sure how long I'll be with Fina anyway." It would give him the night to think of something to tell Fina and he'd likely just drive around until Graham wanted to leave, find somewhere quiet to park the truck for the night. Shitty, but it would work for what he wanted, needed.
"Going to be the whole fucking night with Autumn, I know that," he looked on back to Rigby after rubbing his forehead thoroughly. Great, now he was getting a migraine and he wasn't the one hearing the thoughts of others. Funny how that worked. "Should probably meet up in the morning and just ditch this place." Pausing, he looked over Rigby's truck. Or home, whatever he wanted to call it. "Maybe we should take your truck. Has more room to put both of our shit in it." While Graham was more inclined to take the Chevelle, there was no way it could fit both of their junk. He'd miss his baby, but it was worth it for a bit of freedom and room to breathe.
Pushing off of the truck, Graham quickly finished off his cigarette and flicked it at the demon, hoping it would light on fire from the remaining embers and burn in hell. "So you sure about all this shit, Rigby? You going to be ok with your Cali girl?" Graham knew the answer to both question, but he had to double check to make sure. They were friends after all and both had the other's back. For some reason he predicted that the first couple of hours in the car ride would be nothing but talking about their girls. And the thought of that alone made Graham unsure of himself. Calling Autumn "his" was a strange concept and he wasn't sure what to make of it.
Yeah, there was a lot of room in the truck, because it held everything Rigby owned in this world, which wasn't much. Some clothes, his guitars, a few sentimental things, like the pictures tucked under the visors. "Don't think I want to be travellin' without my truck anyway," he murmured, running a hand over the side of the vehicle, a few flecks of blue paint coming up as he did. When the Ranger finally died, Rigby didn't know what he was going to do.
Graham's next question was much harder to answer. At the moment, no, Rigby didn't want to leave. It would be better for him to go alone, deal with this shit himself. But with any luck, Graham would help him remember to turn around, that he had to go back to Scarlet Oak, that for once in his life someone was actually waiting for him. Someone who cared about him. That, for Rigby, was an entirely new experience. "I don't know," he said, being honest about it. "She'll want to come with me, but I can't ask that of her. Ain't right - Fina ain't like us, get up and go at a moment's notice." He blew out a breath. "Look, I got to talk to her before I do anythin', care 'bout her too much to just walk out. Don't know how long it'll take me."
"I know you care about her and shit, but if she has to tag along then strap me to the roof or something. I really don't want to be dealing with women for a while." After a pause he sighed and smacked a hand against his face. "Fuck, aside from tonight, but you know what the hell I mean... Trust me, take all the time you need with her. I already know I'm going to need the whole night to calm Autumn down." With her abandonment issues, he doubted she would take this lightly. Plus it didn't help that Graham was still haunted from the last scenario where he left Michigan.
"How about you come by Autumn's place in the morning and we can take it from there. That'll give both of us plenty of time to calm the ladies down. Sound good?" It better have sounded good, seeing that they really didn't have a second option. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to leave, but the knotting sensation in his chest was making him anxious to see Autumn. He never confronted someone about leaving before. Never. Not even his kid sister when he was thrown out of his house in Scarlet Oak. It was going to be difficult for Graham on a variety of levels, but he had to do it. He couldn't treat Autumn like he had treated Saoirse. He didn't want to fuck this one up.
Rigby was in the same exact boat as Graham. He didn't quite know how Graham had left Saoirse - it wasn't like he could pick and choose what memories came to Graham's mind first - but he knew what happened with Fina in LA. Thinking you'd left on good terms and realizing you hadn't wasn't something he'd been proud of, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. He cared about her too much to let her go this time, Rigby knew that. If that meant having the hard conversation, to ensure his girlfriend - it was the only word that came close to what Fina was to him - would still be there when he came back, then yes, Rigby would go through with it.
"She ain't comin' with us," he said. "Ain't gonna do her any good to go, anyway. Ain't like I'm goin' forever." Just for a little while, that was all he needed. The migraine would stop and the nomad in him would be placated and he'd return to Fina and Scarlet Oak, better for it. "Okay, I can meet you in the mornin'. Might be early rather than late, if'n that's all right with you." Out of his pocket, he fumbled for his keys, unlocking the driver's side door. "So I guess I'll be seein' you sometime then?"
"Yeah, what-the-fuck o'clock in the morning is fine by me." Which was between four to six am in his mind, but who was keeping track of that? Oh right, Rigby was a telepath. Well wasn't he the lucky bastard. "I'll see you then, and best of luck with your Cali girl." That said, Graham began to walk on back down the street where his Chevelle was parked. He wasn't liking the idea of having to part from it at all, especially after all the shit it got him through over the four years of traveling, but it was always a first for something.
Though what he didn't like more than leaving the Chevelle was having to confront Autumn. Graham had gone over the scenario at least a hundred times in his head by then and each one ended up with her in tears. No matter what he thought of, he couldn't think of any way that was possible to leave her with a smile on her face. It just wasn't going to happen. Bracing himself up against his car for a moment, Graham took in a deep breath before slipping on in. It wasn't going to be a pretty night for either of them. Sadly, it seemed like the demon was just the tip of the iceberg.