"Hey--hey!" Jay joins in, adding a high, blue-jay screech to the cacophony.
(Tim can hear that, right?)
Don't fucking--don't look back. Just keep moving toward the light.
Jay sets his jaw, tenses his neck, so he won't get tempted again. So he won't hear something that makes him jolt to attention, so he won't lock up. Maybe next time, Tim won't be able to yank him out of it. Maybe he won't want to.
The light starts to coalesce into two small points--headlights, thank god.
"We're--we're right here!" His run falters, balance thrown off-kilter by the way he spreads his wings, waving them in an attempt to catch the driver's attention.
The driver. The driver he called, and whom he intends to pay for out of his own pocket so he doesn't have to call his parents. Like they're not gonna notice.
God, fuck, his parents are gonna kill him. He thinks he can cover a cab, he thinks, but can he really? Is he just gonna call another one to get himself and Tim back home, or are their parents gonna have to pick them up at the hospital? Is that three cabs? Can he afford three cabs? Is there even a fraction of a chance they're going to pull this off?
A laugh catches in his chest.
Really? Is he really thinking about this?
Whatever his parents have in mind, grounding him or locking up the Playstation or monitoring his computer use or slashing his allowance, it can't be worse than what's behind him. It's a hell of a lot better than nothing, a hysterical part of him suggests, and he has to fight even harder to suppress the urge to laugh.
no subject
(Tim can hear that, right?)
Don't fucking--don't look back. Just keep moving toward the light.
Jay sets his jaw, tenses his neck, so he won't get tempted again. So he won't hear something that makes him jolt to attention, so he won't lock up. Maybe next time, Tim won't be able to yank him out of it. Maybe he won't want to.
The light starts to coalesce into two small points--headlights, thank god.
"We're--we're right here!" His run falters, balance thrown off-kilter by the way he spreads his wings, waving them in an attempt to catch the driver's attention.
The driver. The driver he called, and whom he intends to pay for out of his own pocket so he doesn't have to call his parents. Like they're not gonna notice.
God, fuck, his parents are gonna kill him. He thinks he can cover a cab, he thinks, but can he really? Is he just gonna call another one to get himself and Tim back home, or are their parents gonna have to pick them up at the hospital? Is that three cabs? Can he afford three cabs? Is there even a fraction of a chance they're going to pull this off?
A laugh catches in his chest.
Really? Is he really thinking about this?
Whatever his parents have in mind, grounding him or locking up the Playstation or monitoring his computer use or slashing his allowance, it can't be worse than what's behind him. It's a hell of a lot better than nothing, a hysterical part of him suggests, and he has to fight even harder to suppress the urge to laugh.