sociopathchan | Percy and Chris; LOG

It had been a week since he last saw Percy or Alice, a longer stretch than the last time and longer still than the time before that. There was a part of him that scratched against his ribcage in irritation, a part that was always asking are they ok? Did they forget to eat? Did they forget to find the right supplies, did they run into some monster, did they do something stupid and fall into a pit? It was part of him that quelled somewhat when he saw Alice sleeping peacefully on the couch, hair falling in her face and arms stretched at weird angles only a girl like her could find comfortable.

He didn't even think when he brushed some of her bangs back, cautiously ignored the heaviness in his chest when she rubbed her face with the back of her hand like a cat. Chris backed away, turned away, didn't look back because if she woke up he might just stay, and he had things to do, didn't he?

Of course he did, he had broken gears to explore and landscape to sculpt. It rang hollow in his ears, he was never good at lying to himself the way Percy was- a boy he had yet to see. That unsettled him and he knew he'd have to leave before Percy found him, even if part of him worried Percy was hurt, or wandering again, or being a first class moron like he tended to be.

His best friend. A bitterness welled up in him at the thought and he snorted quietly, walking to the kitchen and depositing a bag of supplies. Look at him, so dependent, so fucking needy when it can to their attentions. A week away and he couldn't stop thinking of their bodies in a ditch.

He couldn't keep doing this, using them like some sort of crutch- like a replacement for something that was missing. Chris turned towards the door, ready for a quick escape.

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Chris practically froze when he heard Percy's voice. Busted. A mocking part of him sing-songed, and turned, head tilted to the side because he never could just stand up straight, he always had to be the crooked one of the bunch.

"Jackson." He greets, and his tone is more monotone than he'd like. "What a fucking surprise, you would be up and prowling around like a shifty asshole." When was the last time you slept, retard? It's on the tip of his tongue but there it stays. He knew Percy well enough and long enough now that he could tell how long the other denied himself sleep just by the lines of his shoulders and the bags under his eyes.

God, it was Chris. An odd sense of relief and discomfort flooded him. Relief that it wasn't some monster that would kill him and Alice and relief that Chris was actually around. Discomfort because it was clear he was leaving again and that Percy was going to have to ask him why.

"You're slinking around the kitchen after not being around for -" Percy has to pause, to try to think of how long it's been. He rubs his face to try to get himself to focus better. "A while," he finally finishes, still unable to think of anything better than a vague descriptor of how long that time seemed to have dragged. "And I'm the one prowling like a shifty asshole?"

"Touche, dickbag." Chris shrugs, wondering if just leaving then and there would be the best option. He shoves his hands in his jean pockets and walks over instead, regarding Percy with a raised eyebrow.

"I've been busy." He says shortly, tilting his head some as he stops in front of him. "The real question is why you aren't sleeping, you look like shit warmed over."

"Oh." Percy answered blandly, thoughts swimming in his head more sluggishly than he would have liked. "With what?"

He shrugged, giving the living room behind him a backwards glance. "Can't sleep right now, it's Alice's turn."

"Shit." His answer is short again, and still a little too monotone. He largely seems to ignore the question, looking instead to where Alice was sleeping. His voice lowers.

"Right." That's how they did things, right? They had a system. He buries his hands deeper in his pockets, still glancing to the living room. "Whatever, go get some sleep, douchebag. I'll keep an eye out and leave when Casper wakes up."

"And there's no chance you could describe said shit?" Percy asked, his exhaustion obvious in his tone. Trying to wheedle information out of Chris wasn't what he had planned to do tonight.

And that offer of sleep was sort of tempting. But if he took it, who knew when the next time he would have the chance to talk? Or even when Chris would be back. So, Percy just shook his head. "It's fine, I'll sleep when she wakes up." He forced a tired smile onto his face. "Thanks, though." A pause. "It's good to have the option."

"Why does it matter?" Chris scoffs as he turns away, going to the bag to start pulling out what he brought them rather than face Percy. "Maybe I'm riding around on fucking dragons. This place is bullshit, I could say any damn thing and hey, guess what it might be a fucking thing." He answers flatly, moving one of his headphones almost reluctantly off his ear so he could hear Percy's response, since he was no longer facing him. Bottles of water, canned food, packed lunches of shitty cheese and crackers, batteries- he place them down, quietly. "Or do you want an outline. Maybe I can make a pie chart of the chances I'll be confronted with utter bullshit."

"Moron. Your loss." He mutters, more to himself and still focusing on the bag. "How long has it been this time? Three days?"

"It matters because it's apparently important enough to keep you away all the time?" There wasn't much unusual about the way Percy said it; the words displayed the tired concern that was expected. But there was a hardly noticeable tinge of annoyance to his voice and the way he shifted his posture.

Another shrug. "More or less. I've been busy, too." He focused his gaze downward at Chris and the bag of supplies, before making a mental note that he would have to make a list of them, to make sure he knew what they needed to scavenge in the future. Assuming Chris wouldn't be around.

"Drop it, Jackson." Chris still doesn't bother turning. "It's not important."

"Right, because there's no way you haven't been putting it off like you normally do." Chris answered, just a bit of bite in his tone. Huh, he was annoyed. Fancy that. "Not like some snarling douchebag is going to catch you unaware, you're sharp as a fucking tac."

He turns and tosses an orange at him to see- well, prove- just how quick Percy's reflexes probably were at the moment.

It seemed like Percy was dropping it, as his only answer was to continue watching Chris and to furrow his brow.

Predictably, the orange hit him dead on with a light "whumph" before it fell down to the floor with a heavier thud. The fruit rolled a few inches before coming to a stop not far from his foot. He bit down the urge to kick it across the room and instead calmly bent down to retrieve it. "I was busy," he repeated. "I'm on the verge of figuring... something out." His grip on the orange tightened.

"Besides, there's been more to do with you-" The sentence died in his throat, leaving only a sigh and slumped shoulders. "Seriously, Chris, what's up?" There was no way he could let it drop.

Percy and Chris; LOG

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