paradisalogs | Sometimes one asshole friend isn't enough

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Sometimes one asshole friend isn't enough

Who: South and her intervention crew.
What: South gets some unwanted help.
When: Starting the day after Tucker brings South back to the castle
Where: South's room
Rating: R for potty mouths and subject matter

South had at least stopped throwing up everywhere, that had to count as an improvement right? Tucker had found her curled up in an alleyway and dragged her sorry ass back to the castle, mentioning something about a shovel and 'banging her'. York had come back from the Dead Zone which was good. Not only because York knew her better than they did but he had less chance of getting his ass handed to him once she sobered up.

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"All right, all right. I'm here now."

York had found his armor again - it was a real relief, having Delta back up to full strength and fully in his mind again where he belonged, but of course it had to come at the risk of one of the few friends he had left in the castle well on the road to self-destruction. Things were pretty bad if Tucker had to clock her and drag her back.

"So, what's the plan?"

"My plan is to hit her again with the shovel."

Yeah, Tucker wasn't happy. South had been trying to beat him, and when that had failed? She had thrown up on him, cursed at him, and basically abused him in every possible way since she couldn't land a punch on him. Frankly, he'd gone from concerned to wanting to Gag Her Until She Sobered Up And Stopped Being A Fucking Idiot.

At current she'd barricaded herself in her room since she couldn't get them to leave. She was still suffering the physical results of her bender, shaking, hot, and then cold, nauseous even if she hand't eat anything for ...

... huh, when was the last meal she'd had?

She couldn't remember.

It was hard to think, currently, hard to keep herself in the present. She heard York's voice and suddenly imagined herself on the Mother of Invention, the classroom, the questions, all the raw pain of being left out.

"Who the fuck invited you?" She screams at the door, and then hurls a lamp at it.

"Yeah, it's been real fun here. Glad you could join in." He looked from her door and the sound of lamp on wood at high speed, over to York and shrugged.

"Right now we've just been trying to keep her from drinking herself into a coma."

Which, in a castle where you could wish for anything you wanted, was a harder task than it seemed.

"Right. No more shovels." York could see he had his work cut out for him.

"Is she wearing armor?" Because she'd be a lot easier to handle if she wasn't really. "And how long has she been in there?"

"Dude, you'll regret that in five minutes. Trust me." He winced at the sound of the lamp hitting door himself. "Maybe less."

He sighed, looked over at York before he shook his head. "Nope. And she's been in there ... eh, a few hours. Since she can't make us leave her here to commit suicide through stupidity."

"I'm not planning on commiting suicide!"

Guess who's been listening.

"Just fuck off. All of you. All I want is to be. Alone!"

Alone, able to numb herself as she sees fit. She certainly didn't want to deal with this all sober, and she could feel herself gradually reaching that point. It was a frightening prospect, a clarity she didn't want.

After a moment of unsteady pacing, she decides to jam a chair under the doorhandle to prevent any easy access, but the execution turned out to be a little more difficult than she could manage in her current condition, and somewhere along the way she tripped over self and chair and landed in a crash among the lamp debris.

Church rolled his eyes at South's outburst.

"Nice going Tucker."

Exactly what they need, South flipping her shit and trashing things. On the plus side if she's doing that then she's not wishing up more booze or whatever. Maybe getting her anger out will help...

Church winces slightly at the sound of South hitting the floor... or she could do something stupid and hurt herself.

"Oh crap, what now?"

York shook his head and let out a loud breath. So, she wasn't going to cooperate--but then, that's why he was here in the first place, wasn't it? "Try to be a little more positive, guys. It's not easy when the castle's messing with you like this." Hell, he hadn't exactly been self-destructive the last time someone he cared about left, but he sure hadn't handled it with grace, either.

"South? It's York. I'm coming in now."

He attempted to force the door. Would she let him in? Was she too far gone to stop him? Or would she put up more of a fight? Well, he was going to try anyway.

"What? She should know that even though she's acting like a crazy bitch, I'm not going to let her do anything bad to herself!" Tucker yelled back through the door. He huffed quietly at York. "Positive attitude only works if you're an idiot, dude. Caboose was proof of that - what the fuck!?"

He angled next to York, to push on the door if necessary, looking back over his shoulder at Church. "Dude ... I might go send you for the shovel now ..."

"I'm fine."

She's pushing herself up from the floor, using the chair to balance, at the same time trying to shove it against the door. She's not going to be the most effective doorstop, but she's at least making the attempt. Overall she looks like hell, tired and worn and older than when she arrived if just from the collected abuse she'd taken from the castle (and herself) thus far.

Church scowled, this was him being positive York.

"Oh yeah, because you fuckin' looked like shit an hour ago."

He snorted with annoyance. Ok, so maybe he wasn't the best at the whole 'positive' thing. This isn't exactly the kind of situation he's good at, or ever wanted to be good at. This is exactly why he'd rather not give a shit. But he's no good at that either.

She'd better not actually be hurt in there.

With a little extra shoving, York made it past the chair, pottery shards, and other debris to get the door open. He stuck his head in (and a leg to prop the door open and prevent her from slamming it on him).

"There you are. C'mon, this place is a mess." She was a mess too, for that matter, but York gestures toward her. "I wasn't sure if you'd want chocolate or ice cream, so I got you some chocolate ice cream. But you gotta come out here if you want any."

Tucker kept to the other side of the door, because he didn't want to watch her fall down on her face again trying to hurt them, and because he had to take a moment to give Church the 'What The Fuck?' look. They were dealing with a major intervention here, and he brought chocolate ice cream?!

Then he tilted his head, and shrugged. "I call dibs if she bitches out."

She finally pushes herself to standing, wavering a moment as she eyes York, and with the mention of ice cream she actually sinks back down and sits on the bed, leaning forward to press her head in her hands.

That'd been her thing with North. Late night ice cream raids when they were in high school. Hell, they'd even done it here.

"Why the hell did you bring me anything?" She's still having trouble holding onto single thought, and the words come out dark and tight.

Church just shrugs and holds out his hands... let the man do his thing, he knows more about South than either of them. Maybe ice cream is like an emo Freelancer secret weapon or something.

At least it has her talking and she's not being violent. York scores another point in favor of real food.

Never underestimate the power of real food. He had been going to bring her chocolate, but then he remembered how much she'd liked ice cream at his birthday party quite a while ago.

"Why'd you visit me out at the border when Carolina left? I'm just repaying a favor, South. I know I was a real mess after that, but you guys helped pull me back."

And, well, she looks like a mess.

Tucker just gently leaned off the door then, before going to stand next to Church. He folded his arms over his chest, arching an eyebrow at Church. God knows Church had been a fucking mess after Texas. Now, here they were, heading off another meltdown.

One corner of his mouth lifted up, before he punched Church lightly in the shoulder. He would have brought Church ice cream, if he had wanted it. Even if Church was a dick.

People being nice to her. It was still an odd feeling to South, and after everything that's happened she's not sure she deserves it. Ice cream. She thinks of North. The one person who mattered most and she couldn't save him. Maybe York had felt he couldn't save Carolina?

She lays back on the bed, on her side, and curls into a ball. She was starting to feel chilled, from withdrawal and an overwhelming sense of bitter failure. Sober was coming and she didn't like it.

"There'd better be some whiskey with that ice cream."

He glares at Tucker... but it's a friendly sort of glare. More token annoyance than anything.

"Next time we'll bring a rum cake."

Welcome to the Freelancer Emo response team Tucker.

Church has been running interference with Freelancer emotional meltdowns since he got here. It had kept him from focusing on his own issues.

"I think we can rustle up some whiskey. But you're going to have to come out here to get it."

He gives a sharp gesture to Tucker, like get some whiskey. Bribery seems to work, if nothing else.

Tucker rolled his eyes at York, as if to say, What am I, the Whiskey Fairy?, but he walked over to kitchen area to claim one of the bottles of whiskey they had confiscated from South.

Without a word, he sloshed it around in the bottle, to make that distinctive sound.

She's still for a moment, listening to the whiskey, and then starts to uncurl and push herself from the bed. It's an arduous task, but not so much leaving her room as she is putting herself in the company of others. She staggers as she tries to pick her way over the lamp debris, looking at it in confusion because how did it get there, and then trips and falls against the wall.

She really wanted that whiskey. She was starting to remember what humiliation felt like.

He couldn't watch this. Sure he'd laugh his ass off at drunk South normally, but that wasn't this. He'd rather just get her sober and get it over with.

He moves back and gives her room to find her way to the couch or wherever she wants to sit.

York pushed the door the rest of the way open and made his way over to South, crouching down and offering her a hand.

"C'mon. We're right here."

Tucker lifted his chin and sloshed the liquor again. He didn't look away from South, because hell, hadn't he seen the worse in all his friends?

South looks at York's hand, for a moment unsure what's going on again, but eventually she remembers and reaches up to grip his arm, using him as counterbalance in order to get up. She glanced in the direction of Tucker and suddenly wasn't so sure if she wanted alcohol or not.

"At least someone still is." She grumbles at York. An edge to hide how hurt she still feels.

"Come sit and try not to puke on anyone" Church nods in the direction of the couch and chairs.

"Plenty of people are, South. You just gotta open your eyes and see us."

He'll help her over to the couch - her color's pretty awful. Alcohol is probably the opposite of what she needs right now, so he wonders if he can coax some tea or water or maybe some crackers into her instead. "You eaten anything recently?"

"Yeah, we're here. Covered in vomit and all."

Tucker put the bottle down on the table, before he turned to look at Church. Then he too, took a step back for South and York.

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Sometimes one asshole friend isn't enough

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sorry this is laaaate

Re: sorry this is laaaate

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