(Untitled)

[key_youth_bert]

Sometime after this, Cuthbert is outside, sitting with his back against a tree near the edge of the forest.

There's a bottle of graf close at hand

Comments

[honest_johns]

A shadow detaches itself from that of a clump of trees, as Alain moves towards him.

"That so?"

A faint, troubled frown. Concerned.

[key_youth_bert]

Normally, sneaking up on a gunslinger is a difficult thing, even for another gunslinger.

Sneaking up on a gunslinger who's depressed and well on his way to being drunk, however...

Cuthbert tenses, and doesn't relax all the way even when he sees it's Alain.

"Where'd you come from?"

[honest_johns]

"Was out for a walk. Wanted some air -- it's a nice night."

Calm and conversational, but the worry on his face is only deepening.

He could say Didn't mean to startle you, but that only calls attention to the fact that Cuthbert must be preoccupied indeed to have been startled. Alain didn't think to make noise, but he wasn't trying to sneak.

[key_youth_bert]

Cuthbert glances up at the sky with its unfamiliar moon and stars. "It is, isn't it?"

He sounds vaguely surprised. It somehow doesn't seem like it should be a nice night.

[honest_johns]

"Weather is, anyway."

The night's been fine in general for Alain, but clearly that's not universally the case.

He sits down next Cuthbert.

"What's wrong, Bert?"

[key_youth_bert]

Cuthbert draws in a deep breath and lets it out on a sigh, leaning his head back against the tree.

"Talked to Roland."

[honest_johns]

Alain's eyes close, for a minute.

He says a few choice swear words, in his head.

"Didn't go well?"

It's quiet, and not entirely a question.

[key_youth_bert]

There's a short, bitter laugh.

"Oh, it went spectacularly."

A pause, and then Cuthbert raises a hand to rub at his temples, sighing again. "Sorry. 'M sorta drunk right now."

[honest_johns]

Alain noticed.

"'s all right."

Short silence.

"Want to talk about it?"

[key_youth_bert]

Cuthbert lowers his hand.

His eyes have a bleak look in them.

"He said he wouldn't stop me."

[honest_johns]

Fuck.

He exhales, closing his eyes again briefly, and shifts a little to lean back against the tree himself, resting his head against the rough bark.

Doesn't seem as if it should be a nice night to him, either, anymore.

[key_youth_bert]

"It's not as though I expected him to be overjoyed." Cuthbert says after a moment of silence. "I knew it was going to be hard on him. But if there had been any way to make it easier--I was trying. And he--"

He breaks off, eyes squeezing shut.

[honest_johns]

This is why Alain suggested asking obliquely and subtly, to figure out what Roland really thought. Because Roland reacts this way.

He will never say that to Cuthbert.

"He's trying too." He tries to keep it from sounding bleak, and mostly succeeds.

"He's--" He trails off. He can't figure out the words. He's Roland.

He's felt this helpless before, when his friends were hurting. Never gets easier.

[key_youth_bert]

"I know."

Cuthbert doesn't even try to keep the bleakness out of his voice.

"I know. Part of me doesn't think I have any right to be angry over this. And part of me is just...angry anyway. Because this--with Susan? It's not something anyone should have to feel guilty about doing."

He's close to tears, now, and any attempt he might be making to fight it is only making it worse.

[honest_johns]

Silence. He doesn't know what to say.

He glances at Cuthbert. Shifts position just a little to rest his shoulder against Cuthbert's, and takes his friend's hand in his.

Bleakly, "He'd not hurt thee, with this. Any more than thee'd hurt him."

And yet they're both in pain anyway.

[key_youth_bert]

"I know." Almost impatient this time, but that's probably the alcohol talking.

"Seems like that should make it easier."

He's losing the struggle against the tears now, and when he speaks again, it's not with the voice of a gunslinger.

"...Al? What if we can't fix this?"