Worlds Worst Writer

he gets them situated in a booth, makes nice with the waitress, smiles a little when she fusses over Randy and assures him the house chicken soup is a known cure-all. she promises to be back promptly with Benson's coffee and a juice for Randy.

"I'm cold," Randy mumbles, arms folded up across his body like a horror movie mummy. he looks like shit, pale and clammy, eyes pink-rimmed and wet. exhaustion hangs heavy on his face.

"what do you want, you want a jacket?" it's fucking June in fucking New Mexico. Benson doesn't have a jacket.

Randy nods miserably. sniffles, even. "yeah."

so now Benson needs to find a jacket.

he's running through the inventory of their belongings in his brain. he's got a button-up that's kinda heavy, might be enough. the trench coat would work, but Randy left it behind somewhere in Ohio. that sparks an idea by association.

"I'll be right back." he gets up before Randy can muster the strength to protest and goes out to the car.

it's buried in the backseat underneath all the other shit they've amassed over the last six months. he's washed it a couple times but he hasn't worn it again, not since the day they left Chalmette. that day is hard in his memory. end of his life, start of a new one. a highlight. a low point. tricky.

after the first time he put it through the laundry there was still blood stiff in the pockets. so he washed it again. and again. until all he felt when he tucked his hand inside was the softness of the fabric. until it no longer smelled like home.

still didn't feel right. so it ended up on the floor, forgotten. he's good at forgetting things. it's easier.

it's his favorite fucking sweater, though. and Randy is cold.

when he comes back inside there's a cup of coffee waiting for him beside a short stack and a plate of hashbrowns. Randy is meekly sipping his soup, looks up at him with sad eyes like a Bassett hound as he comes around the table.

"here." Benson hands him the sweater. "it's all we got."

Randy looks at it. looks at him. for a second, Benson thinks he might refuse. that day is hard. tricky.

he takes it. "thanks," he says, struggling to shrug it on in the narrow space of the booth. he almost spills his soup in the process, almost. "soft," he murmurs to himself, tugging the cuffs down over his skinny wrists.

"figure we go north," he says thickly. he takes a swig of coffee and washes it all down, clears his throat, and sets in on his hashbrowns. "been heading west for a while now. maybe we swing up through the Rockies. you wanna see mountains?" Benson wants to see mountains. fuck it, these days he wants to see everything. never knew the world was so big.

Benson hones in on his pancakes. he wants to get out of here. wants to get them gone. wants to find a bed he can tuck him into and let him sleep this off. he takes too-big bites and everything backs up in his esophagus.

he squints up at the TV mounted in the corner with a burning in his chest. their waitress stands underneath it, hands on her hips, watching intently as an infomercial for an automated produce slicer plays in technicolor.

he glances up from his food when he gets no response. Randy is crowded into the corner of the booth, arms folded, head against the wall, wrapped up in his sweater. asleep.

Benson looks at him for a long time with a tightness in his chest the coffee can't wash down. it's hard, sometimes, to look at him.

tricky.

the waitress comes by to refill his coffee and clucks like a mother hen when she sees Randy. "poor baby."

"soon as I'm done we'll be out of your hair," Benson assures her.

"no hurry, honey. we're a twenty-four hour establishment. that boy needs his rest."

Benson watches her walk away. glances around. there's nobody else on this side of the restaurant. Randy's barely touched his food. the waitress is right, he needs rest. he always seems to need the thing that Benson can't quite give him. he tries, though. and Randy lets him try.

he pushes his plate across the table. gets up and moves to the other bench. "hey," he says softly, tapping his arm before he takes his elbow and tugs him over.

Randy flinches awake, blinks dumbly, allows himself to be guided against Benson's shoulder. "sorry...I'm sorry...I'm tired. are we leaving?" he mumbles even as he nestles his face into Benson's neck.

"in a minute," Benson says. he slips an arm around his waist. the sweater is silky under his fingertips.

"okay." his feverish forehead presses hot against Benson's skin.

"you still cold?"

"no, I'm okay." he pulls the sweater tighter around himself. he's out like a light in seconds.

Benson sighs quietly through his nose. his fingers worry at a seam over Randy's ribs. he eats his hashbrowns left-handed.

This garnered Eddie’s attention, as his eyes located the personified mini bar, he noticed another being. Slumped against Beverly, with all the poise of a fawn learning how to walk, was you. Immediately, a sense of both irritation and protectiveness washed over Eddie. He moved from behind the bar, making his way over. “What did you do?” He asked, his expression dark and stoic but his voice giving away his concern. Beverly shrunk slightly under Eddie’s fierce gaze, laughing nervously,

“Well.. they offered to help me test out some new drinks, right? So, we started with mocktails and gradually made our way to cocktails and it.. just… kept.. going?”

Eddie just stared and Beverly continued her spiel. 

“I did eventually cut them off, obviously. But we were having so much fun and they were complimenting my drink making. And you know business has been slow and they’re literally my only customer–”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie took a deep breath. “You couldn’t take them to Betty? Having them sleep it off is a better idea than taking them to another bar.” He stated. “They specifically asked for you and Volt. And I know you know how stubborn drunk people are.” Beverly explained, hoisting you up a little. While Eddie’s expression remained neutral, the subtle heat of his face flushing wasn’t lost on him. “Right. I guess we can–”

“Is that our live wire, I see?”

“Volt!”

For the first time since entering the Breaker Box, you spoke. Arms extending out as Volt approached, nearly face planting if it weren’t for him catching and holding you steady. As happy as he was to see you, Volt was perplexed by your drunken state. Normally, you never have more than two drinks with them so this was new. Volt looks at Eddie, a silent question in his expression. “Beverly had them test out several new drinks, many of which were alcoholic. Clearly.” Eddie stated, his sharp gaze never leaving Beverly. Another nervous chuckle escaped the minibar, “Haha, well I guess I better go. Bye!” And just like that she was gone.

Volt chuckled to himself, not taking this nearly as seriously as Eddie was. You could feel his laugh reverberate in chest, making you nuzzle into him more. Eddie just took in your state, as if contemplating on what to do next. “How much did you have to drink, hm?” Volt inquired, leaning his head down slightly to look you in the eye. You shrugged, meeting his gaze, “I dunno, like five? Six-ish?” You answered, your voice slurred. “They’re still coherent, that’s good.” Eddie commented, moving back to the bar to get, what you assumed is, water. Your bottom lip jutted out a bit and eyebrows furrowed, as Volt gently guided you to a booth. 

“Don’t talk like ‘m not here.”

“Sorry.”

Once you sat down, Volt slid in the booth next to you, taking the glass of water Eddie handed to him and slid it in front of you. “Don’t take it personally, live wire. That’s Eddie’s way of showing he’s worried.” He explained. “I’m not worried. You had a few drinks, I don’t care. I’m more concerned about you drinking yourself into a state like this.” Eddie rebutted, deciding to stand rather than sit, subconsciously cracking his knuckles as he spoke. “What? ‘m not even that drunk!” You exclaimed, your voice way too loud considering the three of you were in close proximity to each other. “Right. Like you weren’t barely standing when Beverly brought you here. And damn near fell when Volt came over. Totally sober.” Eddie remarked, a sarcastic lit to his voice. Your brows furrowed once more as you looked off to the side, “You’re mean.” You comment, resting an elbow on the table along with your head in your hand. 

Eddie scoffed in disbelief, looking to Volt for back up. “You are being a bit harsh, Eddie.” Volt added, a small smile still on his lips, clearly enjoying whatever this is. Eddie starts to speak before cutting himself off and sighing. He squats down on your side of the booth, a gentle hand taking residence on your knee. “Look. I don’t mean to be mean, I just– what if Beverly didn’t decide to escort you here? What if you decided to head here on your own? And you tripped on the stairs or something, breaking Skylar in the process. You could hurt yourself or worse and at the end of the day we’re still just objects. You would’ve been on your own.” Eddie stated, taking a breath. You hadn’t thought of that, though your thoughts were a bit scrambled in general at the moment. But, nevertheless, Eddie’s words resonated with you.

“You’re right, ‘m sorry for making you worry..”

“I’m not– it’s fine.”

Standing back up, Eddie gestures for you to scoot over and you oblige. Now sandwiched between the two, Volt slides the forgotten glass of water in front of you. “You should drink some, just to sober up a bit, yeah?” He suggests. You start to whine but Eddie isn’t having it, “Drink the water, it’s non-negotiable” He states, tapping the side of the glass. You huff and drink a tiny sip, drinking some more when Eddie gives you a look. “How are you feeling overall?” Volt hums, his arm draping over your shoulder and rubbing your arm a bit. “Tired, nauseous–” You start. “Don’t throw up.” Eddied interjected. “I wasn’t planning on it?” You reply, rolling your eyes. 

Volt laughs at the banter, “That’s our live wire. You’re definitely feeling better if you’re giving Eddie an attitude” He comments. You sigh, leaning against Eddie, your eyes fluttering close. “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in your bed?” He asks, seemingly opposed but shifting to make you more comfortable. You say nothing, shaking your head as a response, turning to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “You smell good.” You hum sleepily, inhaling his scent deeply. Sober you would be absolutely mortified by your drunk actions but that was a tomorrow problem. Volt snickered, coughing into his hand in a poor attempt to disguise it. He busied his hands, taking hold of your legs and lifting them up into his lap, stroking your calf gently as your breathing begins to even out.

Eventually, the pair felt your body relax completely, a clear indicator that you were asleep. “Should we take them to Betty?” Eddie asked quietly as his hand hesitantly came to stroke your side. “What? You don’t want to be their bed for the night?” Volt teased, smiling widely as a blush bloomed across Eddie’s face. “No. Skylar’s eventually gonna run outta charge and we have no idea of knowing when.” He stated, looking off to the side. “That’s true.. But do you really think they’re going to let us move them? They look mighty comfortable snuggled up next to you.” Volt chuckles, vaguely gesturing at your sleeping form. You were completely pressed against Eddie, face in his neck, one arm loosely wrapped around his waist, while your legs were resting on Volt’s lap. Eddie closed his eyes, huffing in response, he knew Volt was right.

“I didn’t finish closing.”

“Hm.”

“All that prep work is gonna be a bitch tomorrow.”

“Right.”

“But…”

“But?”

“I guess I don’t mind.. staying here… like.. this.”

This time Volt didn’t tease, just hummed slightly, acknowledging Eddie’s words. And so they sat, the two of them with you sandwiched in between them. “You know.. if this is the only way to get you to slow down and take a break, maybe our live wire should get drunk more often.” Volt commented, smirking slightly when Eddie groaned. “God no. They better not make this a habit, you’re both already enough to deal with sober. We don’t need to add alcohol in the mix.” He muttered. There was a brief silence before Volt spoke again. “You really care about them, hm?” Volt asked softly, knowing that being vulnerable wasn’t Eddie’s strong suit. Eddie stayed silent for a moment. “I mean, yeah. Don’t you?” He replied, the question rhetorical. 

“Of course, I just didn’t know about all your worries, have you always felt like that?” Volt continued, his eyes somber. “Not always but recently.. I don’t know. I guess you can say they’ve grown on me. And it doesn't help that this house is so big and that they're so clumsy. Anything can happen and we’d be none the wiser.” Eddie explained, his eyes downcast as he continued to rub your side gently. He sighed deeply, looking as though admitting his worries took years off his lifespan. “I really didn’t mean to be so.. y’know? They can just be so careless sometimes and it’s concerning. But I could’ve chosen my words better.” He admits. Volt nods, “You’ve never been too good with people. But you’re good with them, you apologize and explain your reasoning. I think they understand and don’t hold it against you.” Volt replies, reaching over to pat Eddie’s shoulder. 

A beep emanated from your glasses, disrupting the peaceful atmosphere, most likely indicating a low charge.

“I guess that’s our cue.” Eddie muttered, his grip on your shirt tightening slightly. “Do you want to take them or should I?” Volt asked, knowing that at least one of them should stay behind, just to keep an eye on the Breaker Box. Eddie lifted you off of him slightly, pausing as you mumbled something incoherent, before looking to Volt. “You can take them. I’ll stay here.” He answers. Volt gives him a look, almost as if to say, “Are you sure?” But Eddie waves him off. Volt gently moves your legs off him, moving to stand and swiftly takes you into his arms. Immediately, you're nuzzling into his neck next, as if your body craves that closeness. “I had no idea our live wire was so cuddly.” He comments, his head dipping down to kiss your forehead. Eddie says nothing as he stands as well, moving towards you and planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. Already feeling Volt’s stare and hundred watt smile, Eddie groans.

“Don’t say shit.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“But you want to.”

“Nope, I’m so serious about this.”

“...you’re smiling.”

And it was true, Volt was smiling, glad to know both of them have mutual feelings toward you. “I’ll be back.” He says, making his way to the entrance. Eddie nods silently watching the two of you leave. God, you were going to be the end of him.

The next morning, you woke up with the worst cotton mouth you’ve ever experienced to date. And the pounding in your head made it no better. You were for sure saying no to Beverly next time she offered bottomless taste testing. You turn over, placing your pillow over your face, in a poor attempt to block out the sun. You could just close Curt and Rod but if you got up, you were afraid the vertigo would hit you hard. Eventually, you removed the pillow, only to notice something on your nightstand. A glass of water, a small cup with three pills in it, and a note. Undoubtedly from Eddie and Volt, just from the tone alone.

Don’t be such an idiot next time.

Feel better live wire!

- E & V

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