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oom : room 25
Doc's room is a bit smaller than Merlin's when it comes to actual space and size. And while there are no supplies for an artist, there is definitely space for creative expression. There is a desk against the far wall with a few stacks of papers sitting on it, an inkwell and some pens. Books full of poetry by the works of Poe and Shakespeare and Keats are scattered on the small bedside table. His pistol hangs in his holster on one of the bedposts at the foot of th ebed.
The bed is also smaller than Merlin's but still big enough for two people. There is a dresser with mirror, and several small folded paper cranes sit on the surface. One corner holds a wooden crate with broken odds and ends that look like they could have come from a ship, and a wooden cask with stopper. Another corner holds his rifle, a longbow (nothing special, merely a practice bow) as well as a sword (again, merely a practice sword with dulled edges and dings). There is a plasma TV too and DVD player (which was quite the adventure to set up) but Doc is interested in none of these things as he walks in the door.
Instead he carefully peels himself out of his t-shirt and tosses it aside, holding onto the doorframe to the bathroom for support.
(Unknown to him there is a bruise shaped like a handprint on his right shoulder, where a grip held him tight against the struggle.)
Another moment before he can move again and then he turns the sink on, cold, and splashes himself in the face with the water.
The bed is also smaller than Merlin's but still big enough for two people. There is a dresser with mirror, and several small folded paper cranes sit on the surface. One corner holds a wooden crate with broken odds and ends that look like they could have come from a ship, and a wooden cask with stopper. Another corner holds his rifle, a longbow (nothing special, merely a practice bow) as well as a sword (again, merely a practice sword with dulled edges and dings). There is a plasma TV too and DVD player (which was quite the adventure to set up) but Doc is interested in none of these things as he walks in the door.
Instead he carefully peels himself out of his t-shirt and tosses it aside, holding onto the doorframe to the bathroom for support.
(Unknown to him there is a bruise shaped like a handprint on his right shoulder, where a grip held him tight against the struggle.)
Another moment before he can move again and then he turns the sink on, cold, and splashes himself in the face with the water.
no subject
When they both aren't injured, for instance.
And on the subject of being injured, Merlin is across the room in three strides to manuver Doc away from his own sink so he can rummage around for a wash cloth and anything that might look like a medical kit. He's very carefully not looking at the hand-shaped bruise.
"You get into almost as much trouble as I do, Jo."
Also, Doc may have a new nickname.
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Doc plucks a towel off the edge of the counter and dries his face with it. Slowly. Quick movements throw him off balance. He leans against the wall to steady himself and blinks several times trying to clear his vision.
"What're y'lookin' for?"
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"Nothing, it's not important. We don't know how much they gave you, or even what they gave you, so I don't even know how long it's going to take for you to come down off this."
After rubbing his eyes with a hand, Merlin reaches out to place his hands on Doc's shoulders. "Hi, my name is Merlin and I'll be your warden, roommate, big brother ... whatever you want to call me... until you're sane. I noticed a tv in the other room. We can watch movies."
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Doc looks at Merlin for a long moment and keeps his eyes on him.
"Y'know yer beautiful an' I mean that ain't just t'drugs talkin' and it ain't just when yer a woman cause yer a very beautiful woman but I think I like you too."
Yes. Doc does like Merlin. Very much so.
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"It is the drugs talking, Jo. But that's okay. I'm still not going to take advantage of you in this state."
All he has to do is get Doc into the other room, onto the bed and then he'll figure out what sort of entertainment system the man has. He might even conjure up some movies so he doesn't have to leave him alone.
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That's a surprisingly coherent sentence from the not-surprisingly uncoherent outlaw.
Doc thankfully refrains from using puppy-eyes on the shapeshifter and instead turns after stating this simple fact and walks to the desk. There's a cigarette case, and he plucks one out and a match, and retreats to the bed, where he flops down on his back, lights the cigarette, and tosses the match to the floor. The ceiling is the floor and the walls are the doors and wow the room just...
"'Cause you," he kicks off a boot and it hits the floor with a thud. "Are safe," the other joins it.
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But it wouldn't be the right thing to do. And he can't even believe he's actually thinking this through. It's only after Merlin realizes that he's watching Doc's lips curl around that cigarette that he finally moves, absently picking up the match and finding an ashtray to put it in.
Which he then sets near Doc.
"No, you've got it all wrong, Doc. I'm not safe. At all. No idea what I'm capable of..." The sorcerer needs to shatter those illusions right now before Doc gets anymore ideas into his head.
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It's a protest. And Doc takes another long drag off that cigarette and feels the smoke curling in his lungs. And then Merlin's words sink in. And then sink in. Through him. Past the bed and the floorboards and down and down and down...
i'm not safe not at all
...and down and his chest hurts and he holds another breath of that smoke before he exhales. And stares at a spot on the end of the bed. His toes feel funny. His head feels funny. His heart feels...
"...an' now have I not told you that what you mistake 'or madness is but over-acuteness of t'senses? Now, I say, there came t'my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton..."
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Eventually he turns away and crouches down to fiddle with the tv and dvd player, conjuring up a couple of action movies to keep Doc entertained. Only then does he carefully settle down on the other edge of the bed.
"This is Henry V. You'll like him, Doc."
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i'm not safe
i'm not safe
i'm not safe
His heart beats louder in his chest. He shifts on the bed and eyes the walls.
"The door is the wall."
i'm not safe
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"I was wrong, Jo. I'm sorry. I am very safe and you can just relax."
Look, he's even going to lift an arm so Doc can scoot against him for safety purposes while they watch a Shakespeare adaption. Chosen specifically for the drugged man because he's a teacher, Merlin's hoping it catches his interest.
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not safe
He swallows.
"M'sorry too didn't mean t'feel like this but couldn't help it cause s'not like s'your job t'keep me safe I just thought...bar's always been safe but now it's not cause the dreams and I don't...m'sorry I...hell fucked this..."
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That was the plan, anyway, to watch the movie and distract Doc away from his current mindset. But the outlaw keeps running his mouth, and the outlaw's sorcerer is already too tense for his own good - his back is beginning to ache.
So...
... Merlin simply leans his head down and capture's Doc's mouth with his. THAT should shut him up nicely.
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Doc, being the one currently being kissed, is a bit surprised at the sudden contact because he was not prepared for it. But it does do the job and does in fact, shut him up.
safe
Merlin now has a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and an outlaw beaming at him.
"Thank you. Shoulda done that in t'first place."
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What?
Merlin takes this opportunity to just stare down at Doc, his expression approximating sorcerer-caught-in-the-headlights. He's just not harmless enough to resemble a deer.
"I should ha--- what?"
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Because there is a movie and Merlin is warm and still smells nice and Doc is nestled up against him and the world can spin and most importantly Doc is not afraid of this room.
So when he flops back on the bed and in the process Merlin comes down with him, he gets an outlaw using his chest as a pillow with one arm wrapped around his middle. Looking rather content and pleased with himself.
Yeah, no need to talk.
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It takes a little while for Merlin to wrestle with his conscience, but eventually he drapes an arm around Doc and pulls him close, cheek resting against the top of his head.
Definitely no need to talk.