People Don't You Understand / The Child Needs a Helping Hand

[bingobangobongo]

[It was warm -- that's why he chose it. Someone had told him it was all right. No one lived there, and sure, lots of squatters had claimed many of the rooms of the closely guarded secret, but the attic still had some space. He might find room to rest for the night there, assuming the secret hadn't gotten to many other ears in the time it had gotten to his.]

[It was a treacherous climb up the rickety ladder, especially with a heavy bag in hand, but the warmth and being out of the blistering wind made it all worth it.]

[There was a candle in the middle of the attic, burning low to the ground. Everything else was pitch to his eyes, dark and oily and mysteriously black. Good. He could get some sleep.]

Comments

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Dyin'? [Shrugs and goes back to eating her bread, her hunger now all she can think of thanks to the smell of beans.] Just another thing t'do, y'know? We all gotta die some time. [Nods to the can heating.] Better not let those go too long, kid, or you'll have the whole damn house up here.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

I'm not a kid. [Sure you are. You only protest because that's your thing.] Besides, it's not 'just another thing to do.' You can't come back. It's the last thing you do.

[But he was listening to her, because he took the beans off, moving them from one hand to another when it felt too warm to handle. In reality, the beans were lukewarm, they just felt searing to his cold skin.] There's a plate. In my bag, if you can get to it.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[He was a kid - just the fact he protested told her as much. She simply shook her head and went to his bag, poking gingerly through it until she came up with a chipped plate with a barely visible rose patten in the center.

She moves a little closer to the candle, offering the plate over.] How do you know? And that probably sounds apropos of nothing, but she guesses he'll figure out what she's asking about. Having been on Earth in this damn cold, despicable city for about two months, surrounded by the homeless, vagrants, and the sadly insane people cast out of doors, she'd heard all about this place's version of the Underworld, and it was damn unpleasant to think there could only be one heaven and one hell.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[He hesitated to take the plate, thinking on her question. Instead of making any exchange, he tipped over the can pouring out more than half onto the surface, swallowing the rose in thin sauce.] No one comes back. If they could they would. But they can't. And don't.

[Al stood with his tin and moved away from the firelight, seeking out a seat in the blackness. He hoped it was enough of a sign that he was done with that conversation all together.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Suit yourself, kid. [Half-smirks into the plate of beans, inhaling their delicious aroma.

After a few moments spent eating, she looks into the darkness, taking a moment to find him limned in the flickering candlelight.] 'M just sayin' it might not be the end, is all. Sometimes you fall, sometimes you get caught. [Opens her mouth to go on, but then stops herself, tipping more beans into her mouth.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Al considered leaving, but told himself he'd already shared his dinner and would be a fool not to take her half of the trade-off. Miserably, he listened, scooping beans with his fingers and dabbing up sauce with his bread. When the silence weighed too heavily, he tossed her question back from the dark.] How do you know?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

I don't. [Licks her fingers, mopping up what remained of the beans with her last bite of bread.] You really gotta open your ears, kid. It's gonna get you in trouble some day, that not listening.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the life lesson, pal.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

'S what I'm here for. [Retreats a bit toward her blankets, laying the plate on the floor near his bag.] Sure you're gonna be warm enough? It gets kinda cold up here. [After a beat, adds:] An' you can drop the tough-guy act. I just don't wanna wake up with a stiff in the attic tomorrow.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[He considered snapping at her again, but realized it was likely futile. Though, he was thinking he might bring up later the question why she might be okay with him dead in the evening, but not in the morning.] Yeah. I'm sure. [It was a very pointed statement, accented at the end by the flame illuminating his face as he lit a saved half-cigarette.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[She nodded, longing to join him with a smoke, but she didn't want to ask - and even if she had a few of her own, she hadn't smoked in days, and she knew she'd be dizzy if she tried.] Fine by me.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Good. [He shifted around, coming back to the candle to retrieve a few more things from his bag. A tightly wrapped blanket, a knit hat, an extra pair of socks. If anything, his vagabond youth had taught him how to travel right.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[She frowns when he dips his face closer to the candlelight. Straight on, he looked awful young and lost, and Kara's put him at about thirteen, but in profile? He looked a bit older. In typical Kara fashion, she blurts out the first question that comes to mind.] How old are you anyhow?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Sixteen. [Going on thirty-five, he felt.] Got some advice on that, too? 'Grow up, kid?' [The cigarette burned hot too near his lips and he reacted, hissing and tossing it away from him. When he stomped it out, the floor creaked ominously in a line along the whole attic.]

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[Surprised to find he was her own age, it was all she could do to shake her head no - not that he noticed.] No, but you could stop shakin' the house down. You piss off the people downstairs, they knock the ladder away. [Believe her, kid, she knew.]

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[He felt so angry, he could spit. But it wasn't doing him any good. None of this raging was. It just made things worse. After a moment, the hot under his skin gave away leaving him cold and defeated again.] Sorry. I'll be more careful.

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[Waves him off.] I don't want your apology. My name ain't on the deed, remember?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Al pulled the knit cap over his head, pulled the socks on over his hands, and then enclosed himself in the blanket. But, instead of returning to the corner, he chose to stick by the candle and his bag, sitting indian-style again. Of course, now he didn't feel much like sleeping.] How old are you, then?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[Kara had gotten quite used to the damp and cold, but seeing Al suffering made her very aware of just how frozen her fingers were, so she dragged them into her sleeves, curling them tightly.] Same as you.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

You live here?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

I do now.

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

Got a family?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

Yeah. [And maybe her gaze is just a little dark and defiant. So what?] You?

[bingo-faced.livejournal.com]

[Sorry, Kara, he's not telling.] Why aren't you with them?

[anekanta.livejournal.com]

[At this, she drops her gaze.] Accident. Something... something happened, and I got... separated.