Who: Harry and James
Where: Harry and James' Room.
When: The day after James returned.
Rating: R for violence and swearing~
Summary: ITT James gets more of what he deserves.
the Story:
It was like waking up from a long nap and not knowing what time it was. Coming back to life. James neck is tender, harshly bruised where the noose had been. Waking up
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He lands with a grunt. Bloody nose, a split lip. Harry has a sort of hidden strength that James really didn't expect from him at all, then again, there's a part of him that isn't surprised.
The harsh scolding does make him wince a little.
Damn.
Now he really is all alone. He's managed to alienate the last person- well. The only person really. Sure, there are people he talks to once in every little while. The green kid, Heather, Lisa, and even that Max guy. But by far, he's spent the most time with Harry. He's still not sure why they share a room. To be frank, he's getting really annoyed with this whole 'you were here before' thing.
But now, now Mary is here, so who knows. Maybe there was a different James Sunderland? He rubs his jaw painfully, standing slowly.
He glares at Harry. It's an unsettling look that he hasn't really used at all. There's a touch of insanity behind it, actually. Just a hint of it, but enough to be frightening.
For a moment it looks as if he's going to say something, but he merely brushes past Harry, and out the door, shutting it firmly.
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The writer had been waiting for a retaliation, but it doesn't come. Instead, James just. Leaves.
He could leave it alone.
Harry can't just leave him, though. Not when he doesn't trust James (again).
He turns around and practically throws the door open, shouting after him, "Get back here!"
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He's not sure where he'll go, really. Probably the kitchen. Probably for alcohol. He'll just wander into an empty room, he figures. Make it his new home.
Obviously Harry isn't going to be tolerable. Maybe he can just stay there and not leave.
That sounds good.
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"James!" Harry shouts after him again. He's stubborn, and he runs after him, practically charging--
This is unlike him. But he's furious. He can't contain himself. Idiot you selfish idiot.
Of all things, Harry is practically tackling him to the floor.
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"GET. OFF."
Harry is a pretty strong guy when he wants to be, though James isn't really in the best shape either.
He's left floundering under his roommate, clawing at the carpet while trying to shove Harry off at the same time.
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Harry isn't going to waste too much effort in trying to pin him down. The most simple thing? He adjusts his position to just sit on James' back, and glare down at him.
Let him struggle.
"You're not running away again. It's a bad habit of yours, and I'm not going to just ditch you."
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He struggles until he exhausts himself.
"FINE." James snaps, "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Harry. Is that what you want? I relieve you from your duty as the guy who hangs around me out of pity, good enough?! I don't know what 'I' did here when I was here 'before', if that even was me, but right now, I really just want to lock myself up and have a stiff drink. So GET. OFF."
He redoubles his efforts in struggling.
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Harry hits the back of his head. Not hard, not like before, but out of annoyance. No matter how much James struggles, the writer is keeping his position, intending to stay there as long as he can keep James pinned to the floor until he makes. His. Point.
"I don't stick around out of pity," Harry tells him firmly, still angry. "And I don't do it because it's my 'duty'. This is what friends do. You might be a little new to this friendship business, but I'll do my best to explain it to you since you don't seem to get it."
He frowns at him. "I worry because I care about you. Maybe you don't give a rat's ass about me or anyone else, but that doesn't matter. I still consider you my friend, and that's why I'm pissed at you for taking your own life so damned carelessly. I know what you did. I know. And you can't make anything better by just killing yourself. You're just running away. And I'm not going to let you."
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He's... He's going to ignore that friendship bit. It does whittle at his patience, and at the guilt building up again. He's not ready to get all wishy-washy on Harry. Give him a hug and make up. No. It's like pulling teeth right now with James.
"FINE. Whatever. Killing myself obviously did a whole lot of good anyway. It's useless just like this whole goddamn place. I knew this was bad news ever since that fucking monster ran you through. And now- and now there's-"
Mary. It comes off as a whole bunch of immature whining, the way he spills his guts, but at least he's talking, even if he does sound pissed.
At last, he seems to exhaust himself entirely, though. He stops struggling and just lays flat.
"I don't know what to do anymore." He finally admits, his voice low and relenting.
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"I'm sorry about dying," Harry says quietly. "I managed to avoid death a lot more times than I could count, and I got careless. And... it's my fault you got hurt that time. But that doesn't mean you let the bad things bother you like that, James. Believe me; I know a lot about what kind of horrors can hang over you."
He remembers every time he looks in a mirror and sees his own very red eyes.
"I know what this is about. And I don't have an answer for you; I wish I did. But you can't just ditch everything and be by yourself. Not when I know people will want to help you."
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"You're way too soft, Harry," He sounds gruff, but at least he's calm again. It's the good thing about dealing with men, it's always straightforward. You get your anger out and then everything can go back the way it was. Usually.
Mary Women are a different matter entirely.
He wipes the blood off on his sleeve, looking away, \never making eye contact.
"I don't need anyone's help I don't think I-" Deserve anyone's help, not now.
"I-" He gives up, "I have no idea what to do. Do I take care of her? Do I try to-" He shakes his head, "Do I just let her be? I-" a hand moves up to rub his temples.
"Sorry."
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Harry tilts his head, frowning. "Look. Just... give Mary some space for now. I can kind of imagine her position. She's angry, she's confused -- she's probably about as clueless as you are on what to do. But I promise to check in on her. To be honest, I've... I always kind of wanted to meet her. Know what kind of person she was."
He shrugs a bit. He doesn't think he really ought to mention the comparisons James used to make about Harry and Mary.
"It's fine. Just don't try to run off or something." Harry sighs. "And... all right, I'm sorry for hitting you." Not too sorry, but sorry enough. "Let's just... Hell. Let's go to the kitchen."
He could use a drink himself.
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"I appreciate. I- I just need some time to..." another shrug. Drink, probably. Drink and try to forget this whole situation. At least Harry's going to stick by him, though he's not entirely sure why.
"I- She's not the same person, Harry. When I said-" No. Just give up.
Drinks. Thats sounds good.
"Yeah." He bows his head slightly in agreement and heads down.
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