33 Apocalypse Ave, Saturday afternoon

[existencemisspent]

Margo hadn’t been outside the weird nightmare house when Eliot got out. And — and he didn’t really have any other friends around here, did he. Sure there was Jon, but the last time he’d talked to Jon he’d accused him of making history worse by existing in it, so he’d probably burned the fuck out of that bridge.

So Eliot had gone home. And found that empty, too.

“Margo?!” he called, trying to ignore the echo of an unoccupied house. “Margo.” He checked her room. The bathroom. The goddamn kitchen to no avail. Finally he found himself in the living room, bellowing “MARGOOOOOOO!” to no avail.

He was alone. He’d escaped his nightmare and found himself . . . in his nightmare.

He swayed on his feet for a few moments, on the verge of hyperventilating, then swing into manic motion, grabbing bottles off the bar.

“At least this nightmare has liquor,” he muttered. And set his mind to drinking — and probably smoking and snorting, let’s be real — himself into oblivion.

[mostly for establishment purposes, but can also be open if anyone has reason to stop by.]

Comments

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"I don't care." Which was mostly a lie, but he could deal with it. "She's my friend whether I'm hers or not. A-and I wouldn't let anyone...well, I wouldn't let most people...be eaten by a house anyway."

He thrust the mug in Eliot's direction. "Have some tea."

[existencemisspent]

Eliot took a pointed gulp of his booze.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"You can put gin in the tea," Jon suggested, still holding it out.

[existencemisspent]

“Oh Jon. We are so far beyond gin.”

That was fucking rye in that tumbler.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"You can put rye in tea, too. I even left you room."

[existencemisspent]

Eliot smacked at the tea. “I. Don’t. Want. It.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon was glad he'd left room in the cup, since that was the only thing saving him from another burn.

He set it down sharply on the nearest surface. "Fine. I'd appreciate it if you told me what you want. That I can give you. Which doesn't include magically bringing Margo back, or better drugs, or...or leaving you to deal with this on your own."

[existencemisspent]

“Then nothing,” Eliot said, standing up to his full height. “Being left alone is all that I want.”

Liar.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Tough." Damn, Jon was bad at this. "Um." He quickly went in for a hug. Hugs were good, right?

[existencemisspent]

“Don’t touch me!” Eliot yelled, shoving Job away.

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Right! Yes! Okay, I'm...I'm sorry." Jon stepped back hurriedly. "Look, I'm bad at this, but I'm not just abandoning you, damn it! If all you need is someone to...I don't know, to make sure you don't run into walls until you're asleep, I'll do that."

Maybe...what would Margo do? Unfortunately, Jon had no clue, and if she were here to ask, this would hardly be a problem, would it?

[existencemisspent]

Bitch him out for being a brat. Or distract him with something shiny.

“What the hell makes you think you could stop me if I did walk into walls?”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

"Er..." Okay, good question. Jon thought about it. "Because...because generally neither drunk people nor walls move very quickly," he finally came up with. "Though I suppose if you're determined to run into them, it could be more difficult."

[existencemisspent]

“Jon,” Eliot said, starting to get a bit desperate. “Leave.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon frowned at Eliot, torn between not wanting to truly overstep and not wanting to leave him alone.

"Right, look. I'll go if you promise to call if you need something. Anything. I don't...I don't want you to feel alone."

[existencemisspent]

“Fine, whatever, I promise.” Eliot pushed Jon towards the door. “I feel very loved, now go.”

[intheeyeofthebeholding]

Jon let himself be hurried out. "I'm going. But if you haven't surfaced by tomorrow, I'm letting Issa in."

You couldn't kick out a cat, could you?

Well, you could try.

[existencemisspent]

Eliot had no particular attachment to cats.

“Sure, fine, whatever,” he said, still pushing. “Just leave me to wallow already.”