Who: Drake, Christian, Rome and Wren What: Healing and an abundance of concern. Where: Edison. When: Sometime after this. Warnings: Some talk of injuries and such?
The strange melding of minds with the girl in the alley left Rome with a lot of thoughts that weren’t his, and between the rain and the cold and the hurt in his shoulder, he had a difficult time separating them out. It wasn’t like having someone else in his head, or even hearing another person, but rather he found himself thinking strange thinks that he only realized were odd after the fact. Things like I wish I hadn’t left home and I wonder what momma would say struck familiar chords emotionally but the thoughts weren’t right.
The previous times Rome had used his ability, three times, the after-effects had been comparatively small, a couple nightmares, some weird thoughts for drugs or people he didn’t actually want. It had been strange thinking I want a fix without actually wanting a fix. He’d shrugged it off, and within a day or so he’d been fine. Maybe those people hadn’t been hurt five minutes before he’d tried to fix them. He wasn’t sure.
Rome knew the place Edison, or knew of it, at any rate, but under the influence of several scattered thoughts about making enough money that night, he almost didn’t go in. He found the entrance the knife girl had told him about, and the girlish boudoir was so alien to him that there weren’t any thoughts but his own, at least for a little while. He broke into a storage closet and stole a towel, avoiding a roaming janitor made suspicious by the Noise. He found the first aid kit, but he didn’t have any idea what to do with it once he stripped off his sodden leather jacket and tried to look at his shoulder. He sat in a corner and tried to find something in the kit that would be of use.
After combing through the first location with no success, Drake headed for Edison and hoped to whoever might be listening that the kid had enough sense to go there. Christian was supposed to be on his way, but the guy didn’t seem to have a very good handle on anything even remotely electronic so who the hell knew how long he would take. He did wish he knew the extent of Rome’s injury but the girl hadn’t been very specific on that front, and most of his worry came from that lack of information. Sure, he’d had sharp things thrown at him before, but he was older. He was better prepared. It was different.
The club was somewhat familiar since he’d been there once or twice in the past, though it wasn’t really Drake’s style. He went around back and kept a sharp ear out for anything that sounded like Rome’s ‘Noise’, momentarily forgetting that his ability made him completely silent as he pulled himself up and over the windowsill. “Rome?” He spoke before he caught sight of the boy sitting in the corner, and Drake let out an audible sigh of relief. “I was hoping you’d be here. How bad is it?”
Rome hadn’t heard anyone coming, and he’d chosen a corner because it would be hard to sneak up on him once he was in it, even with the continuous muttering of thought about the tiny little labels in the kit. The sound of a deep, near male voice made Rome jump out of his skin, and with a verbal squeak of terror he sent the kit sliding. Individually wrapped bacterial wipes and burn ointment went everywhere. Rome’s thoughts were clear, but there was something definitely off about them. Almost as if it was a different voice entirely. Who is it? Customer? I don’t want to--tell him no--
Then a second later Rome got his head up and made out Drake’s face in the relative dark. No... no, it’s Drake. How’d you know I was... She told you, you know the girl with the knife?
In hindsight Drake probably should have made a little more noise or announced his presence sooner, but all things considered Rome’s reaction wasn’t the worst he’d seen. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Drake stepped around the scattered items as he approached, frowning at the ‘customer’ train of thought. It didn’t sound right, somehow, but at the moment he was little more concerned about the knife wound. “The girl told me where I could find you. She says she’s sorry.” If she lived at a place like this it meant she worked here, and together with the girl who’d been attacked it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.
“Where did the knife hit you? How bad is it?” Drake crouched next to him, trying to determine the answers to his questions for himself despite the lack of proper light. “Christian should be here soon, but until then a first aid kit will have to do. Lucky for you I’m used to taking care of my own injuries.” Cleaning and keeping it covered seemed like a good place to start.
The resentful train of thought in response to Knife Girl’s presumptuous actions (told her not to tell, none of her business) exploded into sudden alien panic as Drake’s shadow went past and came nearer. Don’t touch me! I don’t want--get away-- Rome rolled over with some difficulty, leaving the jacket and nearly colliding with the wall in the sudden scramble for distance. He slipped in the mess of the first aid kit, sending more bandages and bits of plastic sliding across the tile.
Rome was on his feet before he knew why. Without the jacket or sweatshirt, a thin, bloody t-shirt didn’t hide that he was mostly gristle, skin over bone, and chest so narrow you could see every breath he took. He was holding his shoulder, hiding whatever wound that was there, which had been bad enough to stain the entire right side of the cloth. Rome’s expression contorted with puzzlement, rather than panic. His expression seemed to say why when his thoughts said no. The muddy blue eyes looked at Drake with confusion. What... He wasn’t going to... was he? He swayed a little, lost. He wasn’t afraid of Drake. Why did he just think he was? What the hell just happened?
The worst part of not knowing where he was going was knowing that there were people in need waiting for him at his unknown location. Christian knew that his intense sense of discomfort wasn't really appropriate. After all, he hardly knew Rome. The boy came by every so often when he needed food or healing, but he really didn't know him, because he didn't ask. Still, he felt a horrible sense of concern for the boy when he knew that he was in danger. So when he decided that it was taking him too long to find Edison on his own, he took to asking strangers on the road until he finally found where he was looking for. At least, he hoped that was it.
It wasn't until he arrived that Christian realized he had no idea where to look, but that wasn't a problem for too long. It was only moments before he heard a foreign thought of what seemed to be panic in his head, and he knew he was close. He made his way to an open window and he peered in to see Drake with Rome, a fresh wave of relief washing over him. "Oh thank goodness..." He muttered the words under his breath, more to himself than to the other men, before he pulled himself through the window and stood, shakily, on the other side.
"I'm sorry I'm late, it took me a bit to find the place..." Christian said it a bit sheepishly before he continued toward them, but something made him stop. An odd tension was in the room, possibly coming from the look on Rome's face. Christian's eyes moved from the boy to Drake, and then back to Rome in caution. He didn't know what he had walked in on, but it made him uncomfortable. "What is going on?" He was asking both of them, but he carefully took a step closer. "Rome, you are hurt again. Let me see before it gets worse."
Drake was completely taken aback by Rome’s reaction, but despite his confusion he got to his feet carefully and held his hands up in an attempt to show he meant no harm. He’d thought they were past this, so what the hell had changed now? “I wasn’t going to do anything,” he said slowly, eyeing the shoulder Rome was holding with a hint of worry. “Does this have something to do with your ability? Maybe--” He cut himself off at the sound of someone else coming in through the window, turning at the same time as he reached for the gun hidden inside his jacket. A moment later, when he recognized the figure as Christian, he let his hand drop.
“Nothing.” He felt suddenly defensive, as though Christian had interrupted something, and it wasn’t a feeling Drake particularly liked. He hadn’t done anything. “I was just trying to get a look at his damn shoulder. I think he’s having some kind of side effect from whatever he did to help the girl.”
Christian is here too? He can fix my arm... Rome was almost overwhelmed by the sudden change in situation. There was not one but two people here to help him, and even though he was grateful and more than aware of their intentions, he couldn’t seem to shake the stray thoughts that interrupted his vague attempts at calming down. He looked back at Drake, eyes dropping to where he had reached inside his jacket, and then lifting back up to the other man’s face. I think she’s still in my head. As if to illustrate, Rome twitched back as soon as Christian took a step toward him, and the sudden hushed whisper of Trapped accompanied a mirroring retreat along the wall. Rome stopped a second later. Sorry. I can’t help it. He gave them an apologetic look that didn’t suit his sharp features, accustomed as they were to aggression or defensive squints. I think it will go away. I just... I just need a minute. Or more than a minute. I don’t know. I hope it will go away. What if it doesn’t?
Christian gave a soft frown when Drake seemed to become so defensive, and before he could apologize for whatever he had done wrong, Rome's voice filled his head again. The boy seemed afraid of him, and at Drake's words he only looked more confused. Rome and he had never really spoken about the boys abilities, therefore he had no idea that he could use them to help people. However, Christian nodded in understanding, backing up a little. Whatever was going on, Rome couldn't help it, and he didn't want to push the boy.
At the last part, Christian shook his head. "No. Rome, you're hurt, we can't stand here and wait for whatever is going on to pass, you're bleeding." For the first time, Christian sounded stern, as if he had no intentions on being disagreed with. Rome was hurt and he needed help, after all. He looked at Drake, as if hoping to be backed in his words. "We don't know how deep the stab is or how much he's bleeding, time is not on our side." His eyes returned to Rome. "Is there any way you can override whatever she is doing to you? At least long enough for me to get close? You know I do not need much time, then I can back away again."
Wren, unfortunately, arrived during Christian’s speech. She walked into the front door, like she had every right to be there, with Cissy sleepily tucked against her side. The young girl was no older than thirteen and dressed in a hospital robe and scrubs, and she hardly stirred when Wren looked up and toward the voices she didn’t recognized.
She looked a mess. Her clothes had dried, but she was covered in Rome’s blood, dirty from the alley and bruises and scrapes from her fight with the boy. Her coat had long since been lost, and the dress she wore underneath left little doubt as to her profession. Scraped and dirty as she was, she looked younger than her nineteen years, and she rocked on her heels for a moment with indecision. She couldn’t leave, not when Cissy was so tired, and she had to be on stage in an hour; she had no choice but to walk into the room and help Cissy to the bed on the far end. She tucked the girl in wordlessly, and then she walked over to where the men were, one hand clasped on her opposite elbow. “How is he?” she asked quietly.
It was hard for Drake to wrap his head around the idea of some scared little girl’s thoughts being mixed in with Rome’s, but it did explain his sudden fear of two people who quite obviously weren’t threats. The problem was getting close enough to fix his shoulder before the wound got any worse than it already was. He was about to speak when the front door opened, and two unfamiliar girls entered the room. Well, one looked like she was supporting the other, and Drake assumed that one was the knife thrower. She looked to be on the young side herself, but the other one... hell, she was just a kid. It made him wonder what either of them were doing out on the streets in the first place, never mind throwing knives at people.
“I don’t know. We’re having some issues right now.” The frustration in Drake’s voice was evident as he turned his attention back to Rome. “Christian’s right. You’ve got to let him get close enough to fix your shoulder.” He didn’t even want to consider the possibility of this side effect lasting forever. “It’ll go away. We just can’t risk waiting until it does.”
Rome looked slowly from one face to another. He didn’t press back away from Cissy into the wall, who probably didn’t know him from Adam, but he avoided looking too closely at her. Don’t want you touching me, Rome mumbled, turning his head and trying to see how bad it was, picking at the filthy cloth and wincing. Told him no... He slid along the wall, away from both men, using the support because the loss of blood was making his head light. After a moment he stopped progress and slid down the wall again, thinking tired, scattered thoughts without connection or sense. Christian can fix it... ask Drake if I can stay in Dad’s car? ...I shouldn’t have touched her...
Christian was already unsettled by how many people were here that he wasn’t completely familiar with, so having a new girl in revealing clothing and an unconscious child in her arms only made it worse. He had only met Drake once, and Rome only came by in dire situations. Now he was in a room with a bleeding boy, a semi-aggressive man, and two females who did not look like they enjoyed being there very much at all. He quickly found himself yearning for his lonely apartment with his cat and a bad movie.
At the girls question and Drake’s frustrated answer, Christian’s eyes sharply turned to the man and he said in a calm tone, “Drake, your frustration isn’t going to help any of us, I understand that you are concerned but you are only adding more tension to the room. Please, try to relax!” He didn’t spend long concentrating on the man before he glanced back at the young girl, eyeing her apologetically. “He is not allowing me to get close to him and I cannot help him if he keeps such a distance from me.” Saying the issue aloud only made it worse, and Christian was rudely reminded by himself that Rome was still losing blood.
Christian had to breathe in deeply through his nose to keep his patience, but watching Rome stagger around the room due to the loss of blood was causing him a discomfort that he couldn’t watch it any longer. “If you keep trying to avoid me, Rome, you’re going to make it very hard for me to fix you. My abilities are not limitless and you know that, if you don’t let me help you soon you’re going to fall unconscious and I’m not going to be able to heal you completely and walk out of here conscious myself.” His brow creased deeper into a frown. “Please, I need you to try and concentrate and remember that you can trust me or this situation is going to get very bad.” He didn’t want to ask Drake to hold the poor boy down so he could heal him, but if that was what they had to do for his own health, it might have come to that. The sheer concept of that made him uncomfortable, and he seemed to tire a bit as he thought it. “Please, Rome, I’m afraid that I’m not going to ask again.”
Wren backed away slowly, moving out of the way until she was seated on the bed beside Cissy - far enough away, she hoped, not to make things worse.
There was nothing about this situation that made Drake feel even marginally better about it. He hated feeling helpless, which only made his frustration worse, and as much as he didn’t want to resort to physical means with Rome he wasn’t seeing many other options. The kid was losing blood even as they stood there and his Noise wasn’t making much sense anymore, and that was aside from the fact that he wouldn’t let anyone get close enough to help him.
When Christian spoke Drake reacted instinctively, turning towards the other man with a scowl and opening his mouth to shoot back some retort or another. After a tense moment, however, he realized the man had a valid point and reluctantly backed down. “Right. Sorry,” he muttered, folding his arms across his chest as he tried to relax. It didn’t work very well, but at least he could keep himself from snapping at anyone else. He realized that Christian might have a better chance at approaching Rome alone, instead of two men doing it at once, as much as he disliked playing a passive role in something that involved family; the fact that they didn’t know each other very well didn’t register as important at the moment.
Trying. I'm trying. Stay with these guys all the time, no big deal, they never touch me. Drake lets me play games... He looked at Drake for no reason at all except to remind himself that he was there, and not to hurt him. Feel tired, my arm's kind of cold, do they make you pay for the hospital if you leave right after they fix you? It wasn't a question directed at anyone. Rome swayed again and then his knees slowly gave out under him, and he ended up in sitting again, leaving a filthy streak of dried blood and alley dirt on the wall behind him.
The disjointed thought Wren can help came a moment later, but Rome shook his head slowly and shut his eyes. Don't know who Wren is. Christian can help. Help, please?
Wren glanced at the two men in the room, but she didn’t move. She hadn’t told him her name. Or she didn’t think she had. “I don’t think I told him my name,” she said, because it seemed important somehow, that bit of information, and she glanced down at Cissy, who did know her name. “Maybe he got it from her?” And that was worrisome, because she wasn’t sure anyone could handle what was in her head, much less in Cissy’s. “But she didn’t actually talk to him at all. I would have noticed.” She scuffed her toe against the floor, and she bit her lip.
Christian's patience had seemed to run out when he watched Rome sink to the floor. His jaw tightened and it had taken every muscle he had in his body to keep himself from charging at the boy to hold him down and help him, but he continued to remind himself that this wasn't Rome's fault. He wasn't trying to make this happen, it just was. He heard the broken request for help in his head and he looked at Drake with worried eyes.
"I think he's ready. Even if he's not, I have to get to him. I need your help." Christian gave the man a meaningful look. He didn't want to say outright that he needed Drake to hold Rome down if it was needed, but it seemed painfully obvious at this point that it might happen. When the girl spoke, however, his eyes moved to the smaller one on the bed with a frown. Was that the girl in Rome's head? He had no idea what happened, but he knew that a girl that size would probably be very afraid of two fully grown men trying to approach her. Which explained Rome's fear... Christian's head started to hurt when he tried to understand everything.
"Let's go." Christian spoke to Drake and carefully started to walk over to the boy. His steps were cautious, but he wasted no time kneeling next to him, and he felt a mutual sense of relief and fear when he realized that Rome seemed too close to passing out to run away just yet. His eyes briefly flickered to Drake, before he carefully reached his hand to the wounded arm, his fingers starting to glow almost immediately as he pushed himself to heal the boy before he lost any more blood.
Drake took an involuntary step forward when Rome slid to the ground, concern overriding the frustration in his expression. “It’s his ability. She didn’t need to talk to him,” he said to the girl, Wren, but his attention wasn’t on her. Christian looked just as worried as he was and despite not wanting to have to hold the boy down, Drake would do whatever was necessary to ensure he didn’t bleed to death. He gave the other man a short nod, acknowledgement that he understood, before approaching Rome from the opposite side. His steps were careful as though he expected the kid to bolt at any moment, but apparently he’d lost too much blood to continue any efforts to avoid them.
“Don’t worry about the hospital,” Drake muttered, a belated response to one of Rome’s thoughts even if it hadn’t been specifically directed at anyone. “If you need to go, I’ll take care of it.” Drake watched as Christian began to heal the wound, prepared to hold Rome down if need be, but he didn’t seem strong enough to put up much of a struggle.
Hospitals are bad news, Rome was commenting softly as Drake came nearer. He made a quiet verbal sound of relief as Christian's familiar gold glow of healing took some of the pain away. Rome was eating a little more steadily these days, with more than one source of food if he couldn't scrounge anything up the day before. He'd been hungrier and colder in his life, and the blood loss made him tired and weak. The wound itself could have been a lot worse; Wren's aim was good so the cut was relatively deep, but not in a joint or major artery. It was easier to heal than the broken arm. At least it isn't raining, was the next quiet thought, and it was impossible to tell whether the source was the girl's thoughts or Rome's native ones. He had reason to notice, soaked through and shivering hard enough to make his bones ache.
Christian frowned as the random, near-incoherent thoughts filled his head, and he watched Rome’s face carefully as he started to heal his arm. He seemed relieved when the boy didn’t pull away, and he was able to concentrate more on the task at hand. It only took him a few moments to close the wound fully, but he continues to gently hold the boys arm with a warm hand, making sure that everything was alright for another few moments before he finally released him. “There we are.” He muttered it softly under his breath before his eyes moved to Drake and he gave a soft nod, looking back at Rome. “Just stay here for a bit, don’t move too quickly. You lost a lot of blood and I’m not sure if I was able to restore all of it before the wound closed.” He stood now, and he looked a bit calmer now that Rome wasn’t in immediate danger. His eyes moved over to the two females in the room, and he glanced at the one who wasn’t awake before his eyes moved over to Wren. “Now, I am guessing that you are the one who had caused such a wound on Rome’s arm?” His voice wasn’t accusing at all, merely curious, and he looked back at Cissy, who seemed unmoving on the bed. “Does she need healing also...?”
Wren looked sheepish when the unknown man asked if she’d caused the injury, but she didn’t try to deny it. She nodded, bit her lip and added, “I thought he was hurting her. She was cowering and screaming behind a dumpster, and he was over her, and he was thinking he should run before he got caught. It looked pretty bad,” she explained. “I just wanted him to stop.” She glanced over at the sleeping girl, and she shrugged. “She hasn’t screamed since he touched her, but she hasn’t said anything either. They just checked her vitals and sent her home with something for pain,” she explained. “They don’t really do a lot in hospitals for girls like us.” She glanced at the other man in the room, and then at Rome. “Is he going to be okay?”
As soon as Christian finished healing the wound Drake inspected it with the scrutiny of someone who needed to be personally reassured that it really was fine, and after a moment decided that the man had done a good job. He stayed in his crouched position and made no move to stand, though his gaze moved to Wren when she spoke. It was luck and maybe a less-than-perfect aim that prevented Rome’s injury from being worse, but as much as he wanted to he couldn’t really bring himself to be too angry with her. She was just a kid, really; likely even younger than Rome.
“Christian could take a look at her just to be sure,” Drake said suddenly. There were multiple reasons he wasn’t a fan of hospitals and the treatment (or lack thereof) that the other girl had received didn’t do much to change his opinion. He looked back at Rome for a long moment, and it was clear he was still worried even though the wound had been healed. “He’ll be fine.” It was said with finality, as though Drake would personally ensure that the boy would indeed be okay. “I should--” He stopped himself and seemed to reconsider before speaking again, this time with some reluctance. “You shouldn’t stay alone for the next couple of days, just in case,” he said, and though he was addressing Rome it was more of a general statement. He didn’t want to force the kid into anything. “What about a hospital?” That was directed towards Christian, who he assumed would know the answer better than anyone else in the room.
"Of course." Christian nodded when Drake said that he would take a look at the sleeping girl, but he didn't move just yet, and he wouldn't until he had the okay from Wren. His eyes moved back to Rome at Drake's question, and he frowned a little. It seemed obvious to him that the man didn't want his brother to go to the hospital, but he didn't seem to want to say so either. He didn't know their relationship, or understand it, but Drake's hesitation was right. "If we take him to a hospital they're only going to leave him alone in an empty room for as long as they can to charge him for it. I would be more comfortable if he was under our supervision." He paused and said, to the general room, as he looked at Rome, "Rome knows that my door is open to him when he needs it. And Drake, you can stay as long as you wish to make sure he is comfortable. But for now..." His attention turned back to Wren. "I want to make sure that your friend is alright."
Wren listened to the men talk, and the longer they did, the more she thought Rome was pretty lucky to have people care about him the way they did. She thought he should go with them, instead of to the hospital, but she kept that to herself. She merely nodded to Christian, and she stood and moved away from the bed and back toward the door. She had to go on stage soon, anyway, and she didn’t want anyone coming to look for her and finding everyone in the room. She put her hand on the doorknob, and she gave Rome a last look. “I’m sorry,” she said, again, and then she slipped into the hall to get ready in one of the other girl’s rooms.
Unlike the last time Christian fixed him, Rome didn’t feel energetic again. Once the pain was gone he just felt weak, like he’d run a long way, and he was still cold, so once he was alert enough, he wrapped his arms around his torso and blinked sleepily. His thoughts were still slow, but now they weren’t so disjointed, and they slid from one thing to another like someone rousting from sleep. Ruined my shirt, he observed, rubbing the torn material over where the wound used to be. The cloth was a deep rust red and blackening, and it was too dirty even for Rome, who wrinkled his nose. Get another one when it’s not so cold. He shivered again and looked around at the faces, understanding for the first time that they were talking about him. I’m fine, he said, a little defensively. I don’t want to go to a shelter or a hospital or talk to anybody. I’m fine. He looked at Drake for help, because he wasn’t going to make him go anywhere if he didn’t want to, right?
The last thing Drake wanted to do was stick Rome in a hospital with strangers, especially considering the issue of his Noise, so he was relieved by Christian’s response. It would’ve been a tricky situation if he had needed one. “No hospitals or shelters,” he agreed in an attempt at reassurance, though he didn’t want Rome going back to his pathetic excuse of an apartment in Hamartia either. “The thing is, you’ve lost a lot of blood and you shouldn’t be alone... just in case, you know?” Drake did his best to refrain from outright telling him what to do, even if it was tempting to issue orders and expect them to be followed. That would go downhill fast. “Like Christian said, his door is always open. So is mine.” He shrugged, barely noticing that the knife-throwing girl was already gone.
Rome was immediately reassured by Drake’s decision, because when Drake said something it had to be true, and so he nodded. No hospitals. Rome rocked a little from side to side and pushed upright against the wall. Lost a lot of blood... does that mean I could die in my sleep? He would have continued on this vein, a naturally suspicious concern for his own well-being, but he derailed with Drake’s comment. Stay with you? That’s better, stay with Drake and it’s safer, sleep better. It’ll be Loud, he thought at Drake, eyes on his face. You’ll get tired of me soon. He hasn’t yet, I think he will eventually. This last was obviously directed at Christian with a shift of his eyes.
"You're not going to die Rome. And don't be foolish, you know that I am not going to tire of you." He said it in a calm voice as he moved over to the girl on the bed, and he kneeled beside her to carefully study her body. Her skin was soft and she looked young, but ugly scrapes and cuts stretched down her arms and cheek. He ran his fingers across her gently, a soft touch to her arms, and then the curve of her face, as he watched the wounds slowly disappear.
Christian decided that he had healed all he could see before his attention turned to Drake and he seemed understanding when the boy requested to stay with his brother, before he continued speaking to Rome. "And despite Drake's impatient attitude I'm sure that he is more than happy to keep you at his place. He seems to care for you, so him getting tired isn't something you should worry about." He paused and walked over to Drake, standing next to him, as he looked down at Rome, before speaking to the older man. " I don't think he's prepared to walk. And he does not seem the type to allow himself to be carried..." He frowned before finally facing Drake. "How far do you live? We could take a taxi..." Christian had automatically placed himself in the equation. He had no intention on saying goodnight to Rome until he saw the boy safely to Drake's home.
The thought of Rome dying in his sleep due to blood loss, whether actually possible or not, rattled him enough to ensure that he’d likely be sitting awake all night just to make sure it didn’t happen. “He’s right. You’re not going to die, and noise doesn’t bother me.” Drake spared a glance for the girl in the bed, but he knew Christian’s healing would only be superficial. He couldn’t do anything about the deeper scars left by whatever the poor kid had gone through. Right now, however, Rome was his main concern.
He managed a smile when the other man approached, a hint of gratitude for summing up most of what he’d wanted to say but didn’t know how to. “I’m in Bathos. Not that far, so I didn’t drive. We’ll get him up and take a taxi outside.” Drake turned to Rome, prepared to offer support if need be. “Can you stand?”
Course I can stand. Not sure. Probably. The first sentence, of course, had been directed, but the others had not been. Rome couldn’t even get away with a half-lie for more than a second. He put his hand back on the wall and pushed, staggering with some difficult upright. He was still soaked to the skin and dizzy, so he shook and swayed by turns, but he stayed standing. There, stood, standing, need my jacket, what did I do with it? All one long slur.
Christian softly returned Drake's smile, trying to comfort the man before he carefully stepped closer to watch Rome stand. He kept his distance, because he was sure that the boy would find the energy to hit Christian if he tried to support him, but he stayed close enough that, if Rome did fall, he felt as if he could catch him.
"I live in Bathos also so I know where it is. Let me just..." He trailed off as he pulled out his cellphone, and he stared at it for a long moment, the concept of going on the Internet in effort to find a number for a taxi cab completely beyond him. He glanced at Drake sheepishly, still close to Rome just in case the boy weakened again. "Perhaps you should call the taxi. I don't really understand how to look up a number..."
Drake didn’t move while Rome struggled to stand, and his movement to retrieve the boy’s jacket afterward was as quick as he could make it even though Christian was there in case his strength failed. “Your jacket’s right here,” he said, oblivious to the other man’s struggle with his cell phone until he spoke. Despite the circumstances, he had the sudden urge to laugh. “Yeah, no problem. We’re gonna help you walk, okay?” The last part was directed towards Rome, even as he pulled out his own cell and found the number for a cab. He could multi-task well enough.
Rome was pleased his jacket could be recovered, still cold enough that he was having problems stopping the shivering even though he was inside. He held his hand out for the dripping jacket, thinking things like, good, it's warm and I can't afford to lose it and how far do I have to go? He didn't expect a reply to any of these things, and the domestic thoughts were interrupted by another, no doubt from the girl, resisting the idea of contact. Don't want--Fine, Rome interrupted himself, with no apparent idea how crazy he sounded. Fine. I'm cool. He out a hand out to brace himself on Drake's shoulder with only a slight hesitation.
He refrained from passing judgement on the jacket as he handed it over, at least out loud, and was too busy calling a cab to respond to any of Rome’s thought questions. It was a slow process to get him out of the room and onto the street, but between himself and Christian they managed to support the kid with only a few near misses along the way.
Drake didn't really relax until they were in the cab and on the way to Bathos, but even then he kept glancing over at Rome to make sure he was still conscious. The chances of him getting any sleep tonight were slim, but strangely enough he found he didn't mind.