savethebullshit | IC contact post

[she doesn't bother telling him to shut up, because it seems like a moot point by now. She does, however, curse under her breath]

You're not entitled to abuse alcohol like a college kid at a fraternity mixer. You're an adult and you should fucking act like it.

[oodly enough, she doesn't really sound angry either. Just concerned]

I worry you're going to drink yourself to death. Does it ever even occur to you that I care about you?

...

[Dammit. He starts to open his mouth to say something, but then she pulls that last card on him, and it's chucked out the window completely. He rubs his eyes, but it unfortunately doesn't serve to magically sober him up to have this conversation.]

You should've just said so...

[From Smartass McGee to being surprisingly complaint within the span of a few short sentences. That's the Murphy Pendleton Way.]

Christ. Sorry. I'm just gonna -- shut up, now. Before I say anything else that's... stupid.

Edited 2012-05-26 04:45 (UTC)

I'm sorry.

[now she feels bad]

I care about you an unreasonable amount and I wouldn't be able to stand it if you wound up dead because of this. Is that better than me losing my temper?

[Nope! No. God, no... nonononono.

[This isn't happening and she is not saying what he thinks she just said. He knows how things were when they parted ways and never thought he'd see Anne again, so he figured things were alright at best between them. It's not that he doesn't want her to care, or that he isn't in the least touched by the sad fact that she does. But not -- like that, that unreasonable amount. It fucking terrifies him, because anyone who has ever felt that way about Murphy Pendleton have a track record of dropping like flies -- both literally and figuratively. He tethers between whether he's too drunk to deal with this or not drunk enough, all things considered. Either way, all of the stupid things that were about to come out of his mouth suddenly becomes nonsensical puzzles scattered in his tipsy brain, and he's almost more scared than when he faced monsters. At least that he felt he had coming. But if anything happens to Anne, he knows he'd never be able to live with it.]

No. Don't. [He's discouraged into a pause, hearing the sound of his own slurred voice shake.] Say that. Ever. Not gonna die because of this, I swear, but. Just. Don't...

["I might destroy you, too."

[Irrational Murphy Fears and alcohol is always a bad, bad combination.]

[a sigh, and it's clear she's considering something very seriously]

No. I'm not going to just... not say it. You deserve to hear it, even if you don't want to. At this point, after everything that's happened, you mean more to me than anyone.

I'm sorry if you can't deal with that, but it's not going to go away because it scares you.

[she sounds defiant, but also strangely tender]

[He can't tell her to stop -- he knows she won't listen. She's stubborn when she's set on something, like her father. Her words should be a comfort, and they are, but they're also like a death sentence and of course he's scared of that.]

Alright, already. You win. [She can't see him but he's shaking his head, one hand over his face while his other clamps up over the communicator he's holding.]

Just... stop worryin'. I'll be here. I need you. [Wait.] For. The door.

[Yeah. The door.]

[she smiles slightly, though it worries her a bit that it seems to concern her so much]

Well, I'm not going to stop worrying, but I'll be there in a second.

[there's a pause]

Yeah, of course. For the door.

[it's pretty clear from her tone that she's not buying that's all it is]

[She can buy it or not buy it. Murphy's fairly sure that he doesn't have any control over that, either way.]

I can wait.

[Standing up doesn't seem like much of an option anymore, anyway.

[Of course, he's also not by his room. Fortunately, he shouldn't be too hard to find, since he's on the floor, back to the wall, several doors down from his real room.

[Murph, you're a stupid betch.]

[it's not long before Anne comes along and finds him, crossing her arms at the sight of him sprawled on the floor]

This isn't you room, Murphy.

[Murphy drops his hands from his head and looks up.

[Ah, hello Anne. Hello.]

Oh. [He blinks. Wait. Are they on a first-name basis now...? Only would Murphy's inquiring drunk mind stop to muse over such things right now.] ...I thought it was?

[He even tried kicking the door down. Which, wow, now that he thinks about it... he sure hopes no one else is living in this room. That would be -- awkward.]

[Anne honestly doesn't know whether they're on a first name basis or not. Sometimes she falls back into her old ways of being formal with him like she was when they met, and sometimes she can't help calling him Murphy. Usually, it seems, when he's being the most pathetic or kicked-puppy adorable]

And that's exactly why you shouldn't drink.

[she holds out a hand to him, palm up, and though she's not exactly smiling, her expression looks gentler than usual]

[God, Anne sure is looking pretty fuzzy right now, but at least Murphy can make out her hand and recognize her voice.]

Fine. I'll cut back. [Or something. Right now he's just experiencing a bad backlash of indulging after several years of deprivation of little things.

[He does have a right mind and sense of coordination to take Anne's hand, though. A gesture that, normally, if it'd been anyone else, might have been met with a little more hesitation. But he trusts her well enough.]

You'll cut back. Well, okay. I guess that's the best I can hope for, isn't it?

[she hoists him to his feet with a grunt and looks him over. He seems to be in one piece. That's a good sign, at least. Then it occurs to her that she's still holding his hand and lets go]

You gonna be alright?

[Murphy can't seem to figure out a proper answer to either of those questions. He's on his feet again so he should be fine, and rather than pitching forward or losing his footing, he has half a mind to lean back against the wall instead. But does that mean he's alright?]

Think I should go lay down... [Okay, Murphy. That totally doesn't answer either of her questions or anything. But then, to him, it's a lot better than lying or giving her some kind of self-pitying reply.]

[she tilts her head to the side, an expression of worry mixed with irritation on his face]

Maybe from now on you'll think about moderation. You can't just do everything as much as you want without consequences.

[sure, he needs to lie down. But Anne needs to nag]

Fine. Whatever.

[He knows what Anne means, and while he wants to take it seriously, he has just as much trouble telling himself this as much as he has accepting it. Not just because of his current state, but... For awhile, Charlie was Murphy's reason for moderation. Then, after his son was gone, it became Murphy's reason for scratching moderation out entirely. It was no wonder Carol couldn't stand to even look at him after that. He really didn't make the situation any better.]

[Despite her irritation, Anne cocks her head and gives him a rather gentle look]

Are you gonna be okay, Pendleton?

Well, I'm gonna have one hell of a hangover in a few hours -- not sure if that counts for okay. [He scoffs.] How's that for consequences, huh?

[Murphy, you know full well that that isn't what Anne meant. But he's dodging shamelessly, and even more shameless about how he's trying to move on his own in order to get back to his room.]

[she feels like she's being pretty patient, all things considered]

That's not what I meant and you know it. Are you going to be okay?

What d'you think?

[He's just avoiding the subject and they both know it. Murphy is the worst when it comes to getting a grip of himself while in this state, because -- well, emotional lucidity kind of defeats the purpose of why he gets drunk in the first place.]

IC contact post

audio;

audio;

Re: audio;

audio;

Re: audio;

audio;

Re: audio;

audio;

action;

action;

Re: action;

Re: action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;

action;