Lee Everett (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rightchoices) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
rightchoices) wrote in paradisalogs2013-12-29 02:49 pm
Entry tags:
we could talk about the lives we've led
Who: Lee and anyone!
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
What: Visitation hours are open at Clem's bedside while she's unconscious for his canon update. Feel free to tag each other, too! Bracketspam or prose are both A+ fine.
When: December 27th-Jan 2nd
Where: Clementine's room.
Rating: PG-13 for language, maybe? Will update if content changes.
On the first day, when Lee sits at all, he perches on the edge of her bed and waits for her to wake. A protective vigil, maybe, or a manifestation of guilt that he'd let this happen to her at all. (Rationally, he knew that there was nothing he could have done. Things like this happen. It's life, and there's no way to get around it.)
On the second day, he drags a stool over, and barely speaks.
Finally, on the third, he wishes up a high backed chair that is more comfortable than it looks. He keeps the area around it tidy, but the stack of books and notebooks grow. He doesn't shave, but he eats enough to keep him going. Showers and changes early every morning, feeds and takes Clementine's puppy outside for a few minutes, just out of habit; he doesn't want he recoiling in disgust when she does finally wake.
Regardless, Lee will be in Clementine's room almost the entire week, eyes probably on some sort of book in his lap, though he can, occasionally and if the door is opened quietly enough, be found either talking or reading to her. In short, he's the picture of a father, worried sick about a silent child, and nothing short of the castle's magic itself could get him to leave for any extended period.
no subject
And so he came again, another day of hoping for a change, another day of disappointment as he taps on the door; paper bag in hand, quietly letting himself in and seeing her still sleeping. She could be seem as peaceful to anyone who didn't know what she was likely going through right now. He wanders over, pulling up one of those stools either wished up by himself or someone else during the last few horrible days, to sit opposite Lee. He watches the little girl, the one single thing that kept them all functioning as human beings, silently for a few moments. Then, carefully, he offers the bag to Lee.
Because enough to keep going isn't enough food at all in Ben's humble opinion. Not when they don't have to take that option. Inside is a sandwich, a can of soda and a packet of chips. Nothing fancy, but a meal all the same.
"Here."
no subject
"... sack lunch. Haven't eaten one of these since I was working on my thesis."
But he pulls out the chips, opening the bag and offering Ben one as he does. He'll eat, if slowly.
"You forgot the Twinkie." And then, sincerely even if a little subdued- "Thanks."
no subject
"Sorry, I'll remember it next time. Didn't figure on you wanting to try out being five again."
It's a half hearted attempt at teenage mockery, it doesn't come out quite right, much like anything Ben does when he attempts to do what regular teenagers do any more. But it's an attempt all the same. He shakes his head at the proffered food. It's for Lee.
"How'd she doing?"
It's a stupid question and he knows it, but one he feels the need to ask regardless.
no subject
"Same as yesterday."
But he begins eating some of the chips, at least, settling in the chair.
"But at least she's still here."
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"...Yeah."
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"It was better than I thought it would be."
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"Yeah? And how was that?"
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Ben's getting good at talking AROUND the truth, at least.
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It's Lee's way of pressing for details, idly.
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He might be reddening a little and wishing the ground would eat him up alive.
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He leans back in his seat, expression critical, but his tone is dry.
"Secrets don't make friends."
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"It doesn't matter right now, does it?"