[ in progress :: we gotta hurry in our worry to get done today ]

[child_proteus]

Characters: McQueen/Dean (crossroaddeal), Throne/Teddy (child_proteus)
Date/Time: Mid-afternoon, Saturday. Sept 20.
Location: Drake and Want's place. Section 4.
Rating: PG-13 for language?
Summary: A recovering McQueen has found himself parked in Drake and Want''s bathtub. After a long night of looking after Drake, Throne pokes his head in with a few things to say.  Whether

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[crossroaddeal]

Somewhere in the middle of Throne's quiet speech, McQueen stirred, opening one eye to catch a glance of Throne. The dark shadows made him look exhausted and empty almost, his cheek bones hollow and his eye lids heavy.

Shutting his eyes and without moving a muscle, or his breathing skipping a beat, he listened quietly to what Throne was saying. leave you, echoed and reverberated in McQueen's mind. The soft self-accusing voice of Throne's cut off and there was a long silence

[child_proteus]

The sound of a voice that wasn't his own made Throne start once, very sharply -- his head jerking towards McQueen, expression shocked and taken off guards, as if he'd heard a ghost. He looked at McQueen, with his shut eyes, and thought for a moment it was his ears playing tricks on him again. But there was something about McQueen. Something in the way his breathing was different, the muscles in his face weren't as relaxed, and Throne knew that it hadn't been just something his mind had cooked up to distract himself. It had been McQueen.

And he'd just called him a bitch.

Throne had half a mind to just take it as the guy's insanely dude-ish way of saying go on. He opened his mouth to say something and then quickly shut it again, not entirely sure what that something was. To be honest, he was relieved and perhaps a little embarassed, but just how tired he felt in that moment made it come out all irritable and equally guy-like. He glowered.

"Yeah, like I said," Throne said pointedly, shaking his head back and forth curtly. "

[crossroaddeal]

McQueen let out a painful chuckle. Opening his eyes, and looking up at Throne, trying to make sure he looked as healthy and happy as he could fake. "Father McQueen, that sounds very wrong but incredibly hilarious," he said, imagining himself dressed as a father; those pastor outfits always looked incredibly itchy to him

[child_proteus]

Throne tilted his head away slowly, turning it so that McQueen was no longer looking into his face dead-on, but rather at his cheek and his profile. Bright blue eyes slid sideways to find McQueen's soft and sad for a moment as Throne sighed, but then quickly shuttering again behind the thinly-cast veil of Throne's frustration and worry. "You should be sorry," he muttered, though his words lacked heat. "You know how many people we had running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to find you?" His lips pursed as he shook his head again, reaching up to tug on his bangs a few times before scooting forward along the lip of the tub, just far enough so that when he leaned, he was able to hook the lip of the plate with one finger and tug it towards him, into his hand. "Another day or two and I think we'd've stuck your face on the side of a milk carton. HAVE YOU SEEN THIS DUDE