Neil Perry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shadows_have_offended) wrote2018-12-31 08:32 pm
shadows_have_offended) wrote2018-12-31 08:32 pm
Entry tags:
This weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream
He's cried so much and so hard that his eyes feel like sandpaper, and there are no more tears. Mercy Beau sits on the bed, as maudlin looking about the whole mess of it as Neil feels. Maybe more so. He's not sure how either of them could look or feel more maudlin, but Neil's certain they can manage if they give it enough time.
It's been a long day and a half. January comes in gray and unseasonably warm, as so much of winter has been. Neil's still impressed that Mercy Beau got himself from Bramford to Candlewood, though he can't be impressed for long. There had been no gently impatient, laughing Southern drawl coming after the dog when Neil opened the door to his soft whining. There has been none since he showed up. And when Neil called--both Goodnight and Billy Rocks--he got the same this number has been disconnected message he's gotten a number of times before, from Cassie and Adam and a handful of others.
Neil leaves Mercy in the apartment when he goes over to Bramford. If Mercy was still there, he has to hope that some of his things are too--and maybe some of Goodnight and Billy's things, as well. It's a sad thought. He doesn't want to raid their apartment for trinkets and keepsakes and little memories of them. Rather, he wants to save what little might remain of them before the vultures circle in and throw them out with the garbage.
There isn't much. It's like they were barely there at all. His breath catches in his chest. Mercy's things, at least, are there. A harness and leash. His vest, and a couple of kerchiefs. His bowls and crate. Neil packs it all into the crate and then sits there in that utilitarian apartment, already half-stripped of signs of their life here.
His hands shake. He calls Gabriel.
"Are you busy?" he asks without saying hello. Even though his eyes are tired and itchy from too much crying, he can feel the edge of it again. "Do you have a little while?"
It's been a long day and a half. January comes in gray and unseasonably warm, as so much of winter has been. Neil's still impressed that Mercy Beau got himself from Bramford to Candlewood, though he can't be impressed for long. There had been no gently impatient, laughing Southern drawl coming after the dog when Neil opened the door to his soft whining. There has been none since he showed up. And when Neil called--both Goodnight and Billy Rocks--he got the same this number has been disconnected message he's gotten a number of times before, from Cassie and Adam and a handful of others.
Neil leaves Mercy in the apartment when he goes over to Bramford. If Mercy was still there, he has to hope that some of his things are too--and maybe some of Goodnight and Billy's things, as well. It's a sad thought. He doesn't want to raid their apartment for trinkets and keepsakes and little memories of them. Rather, he wants to save what little might remain of them before the vultures circle in and throw them out with the garbage.
There isn't much. It's like they were barely there at all. His breath catches in his chest. Mercy's things, at least, are there. A harness and leash. His vest, and a couple of kerchiefs. His bowls and crate. Neil packs it all into the crate and then sits there in that utilitarian apartment, already half-stripped of signs of their life here.
His hands shake. He calls Gabriel.
"Are you busy?" he asks without saying hello. Even though his eyes are tired and itchy from too much crying, he can feel the edge of it again. "Do you have a little while?"