e_delmar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Ain't nothin' but a normal room. Pretty one, too, if'n you don't think too hard on what's goin' on in there. Ennis' sleeping more now, at least -- the drugs help with that -- but he's still awake a lot (and damn grumpy about it, too. But he ain't no less grumpy about the sleep, neither).

But he's there, and at least that's something.

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"The hell I ain't," self-righteously, just like he would if they were sitting around a campfire instead of lying here in this bed.

Still, his hand's slow and gentle over Ennis' arm and back.

Ennis laughs, or tries to, all that comes out is a dry hack, and he opens his eyes, lookin' up at Jack with large, pleading eyes.

Some muscle in Jack's jaw twitches, and he blinks sort of rapidly for a few seconds, and his voice is hoarse when he says "Guess I oughta learn when to shut up."

"No-"

and the word almost don't come out, but he grabs for Jack's arm, his hand holdin' tight, tight's he can anyways.

"Okay."

It ain't, but they've been pretending it is for so long, seems a shame to drop it now.

Ennis nods, just a little, and he looks up at Jack like the word'd been a question, instead of something else.

The look makes Jack hopelessly angry, suddenly, though he doesn't show it and he just smiles a little, like he would if it were a question and he'd asked it even knowing the answer.

But--yeah. Pissed as hell. Twenty years for him, thirty-something for Ennis, dealing with something they thought they couldn't control and had no power over.

Well, shit, he thinks, bitterly. They hadn't seen nothing yet.

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