your bitch. Who: Res and Keane When: 8:15pm and on Where: Mostly Res' room
Res had spent some time in the gym during the evening, and upon returning to her room, she'd headed immediately to hop in the shower. She was just rinsing off when the power went out. She stared at nothing in the darkness, standing under the stream of hot water while she waited for it to come back on. A few flickers, and then out for good. "Well... shit," she mumbled, blinking some more at a whole lot of nothing. She put the soap down, not noticing as it slid off the rim of the tub and onto the floor. She leaned down to turn the water off, and promptly moved to step out of the tub.
Keane's brain was not a particularly happy place to be, but he supposed it wasn't miserable. It was just... busy. He'd been mentally spinning himself out in circles ever since his conversation with Danny, and there wasn't a thing to be done about it. So upon returning to his room, he'd settled with his acoustic guitar, and was softly strumming his thoughts away when the power went out.
Like Res, he stilled and waited for the power to switch back on. It never did. And then -- he heard Res' expletive shout, along with a loud thud. "Res?" he asked, immediately sitting up straighter. They had propped the door between their rooms open, and he stared in the general direction of it now. "You okay?"
Fuck. Res was lying on her bathroom floor, face first, wet and naked on the bathroom tile. And her right ankle hurt like a motherfucker. She tried to get up, and fell right back on her face. "Um. Emphatically not!" she called back, resisting the urge to smash her face in against the sink. Of course, to do that, she'd have to find the sink. She supposed the toilet bowl would work.
Fuck. Keane's first thought echoed Res' perfectly, as an announcement played over the PA system. A power outage -- of course. Terrific. Putting the guitar aside, Keane got up and fumbled around the room, feeling his way with his hands into Res' room and towards her bathroom door. "What does that mean?"
Res cringed. "I just did a ten point header out of the shower and fucked up my ankle," she answered. Silence for a moment, as she debated her options, and finally she groaned as she mentally chewed through her pride. "...I need your help." Fuck fuckity fuck fuck, did she ever hate admitting to that.
She needed what? Res? Did she really just say that? Keane stared at the bathroom door. Well, fuck. "Are you even wearing anything?" he asked, mentally preparing himself. So help me, GOD...
At his question, Res felt around the wall and yanked a towel down onto the floor to quickly wrap around her body. "Um, a towel?" No, this was not her idea of a good time. She and Keane were close, but she had limits, dammit. So did her pride.
A towel. Terrific. Well here was another memory to throw into the screaming mess that was Keane's poor fucked up head. He opened the door, and was immediately assaulted by hot steam that smelled way too overwhelmingly much like Res for his own good. It was fucking intoxicating. Damn it all to hell! "Okay. Where are you?"
"You just hit me with the door," Res mumbled. She'd managed to sit up in the cramped bathroom space, and she reached out and poked Keane's leg. She felt around with her hand until it found Keane's and she tugged. She was trying to be helpful, really she was.
"Jesus, Res, watch your hands," Keane blurted out, going a little wide-eyed in the darkness. He really could have done without that. Really. Lived his entire fucking life at least semi-happily without that little experience. Once her hand closed around his, he leaned over to pull her arm around his neck and pull her up. "Can you stand?"
"If you can find me a spot that isn't a puddle of water on a tile floor, I'd be happy to try," Res managed to respond, really not enjoying this experience. She was glad it was fuckin' dark, because her face was eight different kinds of red. What the hell had she grabbed?! Fuck.
"Right." That in mind, Keane simply picked her up, trying desperately to ignore the little bastard voice in his head that was chiming in with how light she was and how well she fit in his arms. God -- please let that towel stay in place. If it didn't, his head would explode. Probably both of them. Ever - so - carefully, he carried Res out into her room, feeling around with his foot to find her bed and place her on it. Then he slowly headed back into the bathroom to turn the water off. And remember how to fucking breathe. Jesus. "What's the verdict?" he called. He debated whether or not to throw some towels on the ground to soak up the water, but you know what? Fuck that idea. The room still smelled too much like Res to linger in it that long.
Res was kind of happy for the break, herself. She took a moment to hide her face in her hand, mentally screaming at herself before she tried to stand up. The closeness got to her just as much as it did Keane, unbeknownst to her. Standing up now! Great! Wait, no. Okay, that sucked. As in, did not work at all. "Twisted," she confirmed. "I'm gonna need you to keep being my errand bitch until the power's back on."
Keane blinked in the darkness before heading out of the bathroom. "I'm not your errand bitch on any given day?" he asked. So true. And he was perfectly fine with this. He was actually trying not to grin.
Res did grin, and bit back a laugh. "Can you get me some clothes?" That was the first blessed step at reviving her pride, though she didn't particularly like the idea of Keane having to get this shit for her - whether she had asked him to or not. Rooting around in her personal shit? Probably not good.
Keane really wasn't enthused for this idea himself. "Just tell me where they are," he said, resigning himself to his fate. The gods had spoken, and tonight was just going to keep on blowing. Alright then.
"Well, the closet's a good start," Res answered him. "My underwear is in the drawer beneath the TV. My pride is still on the bathroom if you want to go get that too, while you're at it."
Oh, she was just hilarious. "Er, yeah, Res, that's where I draw the line -- I'm not going through your underwear. Tough it out," Keane replied, though he did find his way to her closet -- and a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "As for your pride, I think you left that in a bar over the summer."
"Fair enough," Res agreed, having to give him that. On all counts. They were probably close enough without that, anyway. And there were a few particularly blurry summer nights - they'd spent a few months backpacking through Europe, and it had been quite the experience. Mostly good. Sometimes just... yikes. She still had dreams about the times they'd shared a bed due to cramped hostels.
Keane fumbled through the darkness, apparently not as careful when he wasn't carrying Res around. For as he turned the corner towards her bed, he stubbed his toe on some god-forsaken piece of furniture. "Sodding... AUGH!" he half grunted, half shouted. "Res, your fucking room is trying to kill us."
"Are you really surprised? I would get the homicidal room." She waited for Keane to bring her clothes to her, and quickly pulled those on, shifting out of the towel and throwing that damn thing somewhere in the vague direction of 'over there'. "'Kay, I'm good."
Keane didn't even bother asking if she'd just bloody changed two feet in front of him. Of course she had! Great, fucking great. Something else to haunt the living shit out of him. Perfect. "Right, then let's head down to the medical station."
Res looked up at him (or at least, in the direction of his voice) and blinked. "Why, did you hurt yourself?"
"Cute," Keane commented, before feeling around the edge of the bed. When he found her, he simply picked her up. He was pretty sure he was going to get hit for this. "But seeing as I'm the one that gravity hasn't tried to sodomize yet, I think I'll be making the decisions."
"You suck!" Res confirmed, and he would get hit for this - later, when she wasn't in a position to be dropped on her ungrateful ass. "I don't need a fuckin' doctor! I need a bottle of advil and possibly a beer."
"Neither of which I could find in your room if you bloody paid me," Keane reminded her, finding the door and pulling it open. The hallway was cast in a dim red light, and he was supremely glad he wasn't going to have to feel his way through several floors in the darkness. "Right, do you remember where the medical station is?"
Res resisted the urge to laugh out loud. Why did this shit always happen to them? "And if I did, I would tell you... why?" Awwww yeah, who had the fuckin' power now, bitch?
Keane grinned down at her, just staring her down for a minute while he debated with himself on how he wanted to answer that. Now that he could see her eyes, that probably wasn't a good idea -- it was a little more distracting than he had been at all prepared for. The lighting, the closeness... Fuck. To make up for his eyes lingering on hers just a second too long, he promptly let her go -- partially. He simply held her legs and held her upside down. "Because," he answered, "This will eventually drive you insane."
Res had been getting a little distracted herself. Keane holding her, in the dim red light, grinning down at her... fuck, she loved the way he grinned. It did such horrible, horrible things to her insides. And then before she knew what the fuck was going on, she was hanging upside down. She screamed and burst out laughing, never fearing once that Keane would actually drop her. And yes, she hated herself for that. "Oh my God, you asshole!" she shouted, still laughing her ass off. "Okay, fine! It's upstairs by the lobby."
"Ah, I love winning," Keane replied, letting her hang there for a moment longer before pulling her back up. Her t-shirt had been starting to slide up, exposing her stomach -- and Keane was all to aware of the fact that he'd been the one that had refused to give the girl a bra. Jungle gym time was over. He started walking towards the stairs, not even bothering with the idea of the elevators. Even if they were working, he wasn't about to trust that they'd stay that way.
Res resigned herself to her fate, and quietly allowed herself to be carried, even if she knew already that all they'd do would be to wrap her ankle and tell her to stay off of it. And - what a surprise - that was exactly what did happen. The doc threw in a couple of tylenol to sweeten the deal, but Res wasn't overly concerned about it herself. She was no stranger to injury, or pain. And it didn't actually hurt as long as she stayed off of it. A pair of crutches later, and she and Keane were standing in the lobby. "What now?"
Keane had stayed quiet in the med station, getting what few updates there were to be had from the medical staff whilst staying close to Res. He had found -- much to his surprise -- that with her needs to concentrate on, he'd forgotten about his own miserable bastard routine following his conversation with Danny. Until he saw a doctor with a nametag that read Jake, and he had to remind himself that this was not one of the names that Danny had given him. Damn, he would have loved to forget about that. Luckily, he hid it all from res.
"We could head over to Circean Delight," he answered, shrugging. A nurse had mentioned that people were gathering there. "Seems like what everyone else is doing. Do you feel like being social?"
Res grinned at Keane. "Not really," she admitted. Shocker. The odds were too good she'd shove one of her crutches up someone's ass, and they both knew it. "Do you?"
He grinned back at her. "Not really," he echoed. "Drinks and the room?" He had not told Res about his time in the Cult and his talk with Danny, nor did he ever intend to. He desired to continue living, thank you.
"That is a plan," Res agreed. She wasn't going to get fucked up or anything, but she was in no way in the mood for a few dozen panicky strangers in the dark. She wasn't even the type to deal well with that when she was uninjured.
"Right. Lead the way, Gimpy," Keane said, grinning widely as they headed for the hall. He supposed the night wasn't a total loss after all.