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Oh, right. Uh.
[There is something he's been thinking about. Something he's been building himself up to.]
Fuck me? Please.
[There is something he's been thinking about. Something he's been building himself up to.]
Fuck me? Please.
Thanks.
[He mumbles it, before going back to kissing.]
[He mumbles it, before going back to kissing.]
You've been so patient. I'm actually a little impressed.
This is fucking ridiculous the way they follow her. She deserves whatever's coming to her, honestly. They should just let it happen at this point.
This is fucking ridiculous the way they follow her. She deserves whatever's coming to her, honestly. They should just let it happen at this point.
I honestly expected them to have let up by now. And I was going to only give you a couple more days, so good job messaging me now.
You weren't even going to warn me?
Rawne. I'm hurt.
Well, no matter. We're just going to do this quick and dirty. You know. American style. How stealthy are you? Are you the...hide behind the crates type? Or are you the type to run in guns blazing?
Rawne. I'm hurt.
Well, no matter. We're just going to do this quick and dirty. You know. American style. How stealthy are you? Are you the...hide behind the crates type? Or are you the type to run in guns blazing?
I'd have given you some notice.
[Like an hour or two. At least.]
I was trained in stealth. How to be quick, quiet, and deadly. And I have no idea what American style is.
[He's only vaguely aware what America is.]
[Like an hour or two. At least.]
I was trained in stealth. How to be quick, quiet, and deadly. And I have no idea what American style is.
[He's only vaguely aware what America is.]
Americans are...well, that's a rant for another day.
Now that's good. Then because I don't trust you to keep your fucking cool, tail me without letting her see you. I'm going to try and lead her somewhere the wardens won't go. Let you have your piece of her, if you can. Barring that, I'll just fucking shoot her in the hallway.
I did tell you I had a gun, right? If this goes absolutely abysmally, then it's up to you. Don't worry about me, just get to her.
Do not let her get her hands on the gun. If she does, do not attack her. It only works if I'm in danger or I'm protecting someone else.
Now. Questions?
Now that's good. Then because I don't trust you to keep your fucking cool, tail me without letting her see you. I'm going to try and lead her somewhere the wardens won't go. Let you have your piece of her, if you can. Barring that, I'll just fucking shoot her in the hallway.
I did tell you I had a gun, right? If this goes absolutely abysmally, then it's up to you. Don't worry about me, just get to her.
Do not let her get her hands on the gun. If she does, do not attack her. It only works if I'm in danger or I'm protecting someone else.
Now. Questions?
It sounds like you have it all planned out. So, I follow you, maybe stab her a couple of times, and then we're done. Right?
That's right. You make it sound so simple.
Don't underestimate her. I have one more person to alert and we'll do it tomorrow.
Don't underestimate her. I have one more person to alert and we'll do it tomorrow.
I won't underestimate her.
All right. See you tomorrow.
All right. See you tomorrow.
Quentin sprints for the infirmary, and comes through the doors at a run. Apparently Rawne isn't hurt, but all the same, every internal alarm bell he has is sounding.
Rawne looks up when the doors fly open and Quentin barges in. He's not hurt, but he's curled up on one of the chairs, arms around his legs, knees under his chin.
"Oh my god, are you okay?"
Says Quentin, skittering to a halt in front of him, crouching so they're at level.
"Are you hurt? Can I get you home? If you're not bleeding out you can come to my place, we can make you a cup of coffee."
Says Quentin, skittering to a halt in front of him, crouching so they're at level.
"Are you hurt? Can I get you home? If you're not bleeding out you can come to my place, we can make you a cup of coffee."
"I'm... not hurt." He uncurls a little. "Coffee would be nice."
Also, once he's alone, he may just dump the whole thing on Quentin. He's not sure if he can lie to him, now. But he wants to not be here.
Also, once he's alone, he may just dump the whole thing on Quentin. He's not sure if he can lie to him, now. But he wants to not be here.
"Yeah. Come on."
Offering him an arm to help him to his feet.
"Whatshisname messaged the warden network. New guy."
Offering him an arm to help him to his feet.
"Whatshisname messaged the warden network. New guy."
"Edward." He takes Quentin's arm and pulls himself up. "He's not bad."
"Good."
Says Quentin, and takes the unusual step of moving in, tucking his arm around Rawne's shoulders.
"I won't grill you until we get you home. Please know in advance that as I do, once we get there, it's because I'm very worried for you, try to bear up patiently under the outpouring of emotion you're about to be walloped with."
Says Quentin, and takes the unusual step of moving in, tucking his arm around Rawne's shoulders.
"I won't grill you until we get you home. Please know in advance that as I do, once we get there, it's because I'm very worried for you, try to bear up patiently under the outpouring of emotion you're about to be walloped with."
"Great." Rawne leans on him, keeping his face down. He's really not sure what he's going to do, once they get to Quentin's room. He's been in a haze ever since Franky showed up and he realized he failed to avenge Norton's death. Anything could happen.
He gets him there, and through the door, and then back to the cozy little kitchen where they've sat together a hundred times now. He pushes him gently down into a chair, and goes to put coffee on, leaving him a second of quiet to process.
The moment he hits the chair, he flops like his strings have been cut. He stares at the table without really seeing it. Useless, useless, useless rings in his head.
"Okay."
Says Quentin, after a moment, setting a plate of cookies down on the table, and moving to sit in the chair opposite.
"Better start from the beginning."
Says Quentin, after a moment, setting a plate of cookies down on the table, and moving to sit in the chair opposite.
"Better start from the beginning."
He's quiet for a long moment. He's not sure what, exactly, counts as the beginning.
Finally, he speaks. "For one, I'm not trusting Pagan to plan our way out of a paper bag. Larry was right, the whole thing was fethed."
Finally, he speaks. "For one, I'm not trusting Pagan to plan our way out of a paper bag. Larry was right, the whole thing was fethed."
Quentin leans his elbows on the table, biting his bottom lip in sympathy.
"What was Pagan planning?"
"What was Pagan planning?"
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