(Untitled)

[canaan_divided]

Every time Mamet gets comfortable on the island, the fucking piece of rock throws him a curve ball. In disappearances and deaths and disasters, and a plain green vinyl travel kit on his porch that he recognizes the second he sees it. He knows what it is, it makes the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stand up, sweat blooming under his armpits and

Comments

[new_ophelia]

Mamet looked like he was pretty deep in thought; Kate had planned to just let him be. She sure as hell knew about the need for space.

Sam, on the other hand, had other ideas. Sometimes he still got confused when someone that looked like Duck wasn't Duck, but it's still a familiar enough face to make him happy.

"Hi!" Sam cries, ignoring his mother's attempts to hush him as she tries to make him toddle by a little faster, and not onto Mamet's porch. "Hi, hi."

[canaan_divided]

"Fuck," Mamet yelps, nearly dropping the kit. He's so freaked out that Sam will...he doesn't even know, grab the bag, maybe, that he doesn't even realize he just swore in front of a toddler. Instead he quickly zips up the kit with trembling fingers, and shoves it behind his back.

"Hi," he croaks, overly excited, to Sam. He looks up at Kate. "Hi."

[new_ophelia]

"Sorry," she murmurs, sweeping a squirming Sam up away from the porch. "I'm sorry, I was trying not to bother you. He's getting fast, though. Little shit."

[canaan_divided]

Mamet feels a little better about the fuck when he hears Kate swear. "It's okay," he assures her, "it's cool. I, um...just lemme put this inside."

It's the last place he wants it, but he can't chance Sam getting ahold of it. He gets up, bag in both hands and shoulders the door open to toss it inside. Fucking piece of shit island.

[m_pinocchio]

"Hey," he calls, raising a hand, Geppetto snuffling around his boots. The pig sometimes gets ideas into his head, and today that idea seems to be to follow Mike around, and he guesses he can handle that. Though he's beginning to crave bacon a bit.

He walks a little closer, just meaning to offer a quick word of greeting on a nice enough day, but as he draws nearer he sees Mamet hunched over something in a way that doesn't look all that casual.

"Everything okay?"

[canaan_divided]

Mamet holds the bag against his stomach. He noticed Mike too late to hide the fucking thing, so it's all he can do to keep the drugs out of view.

He clears his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. How's...how are you?"

[m_pinocchio]

"Fine," he says, one eyebrow raised, looking Mamet over. Geppetto snuffles up around the bottom step, one ear wiggling goodnaturedly.

He's seen that look on Mamet before, and he doesn't know that he'd call it 'good'.

"You sure about that?"

[canaan_divided]

Mamet looks down at Geppetto like he's never seen him before. Or a pig, for that matter.

He looks up at Mike and it takes a moment to answer. "I'm, yeah. As good as I can be." He swipes his forehead with the back of his hand. Fucking hot out.

[little_moons]

"'s it that time of year again?" I ask, plopping down onto the step beside him, and the way he's been staring at that goddamn bag, I'm not even sure he heard me come up.

I do a damn good job of not looking worried -- worried that he has to deal with this shit again, but that doesn't mean I'm not.

[canaan_divided]

Mamet starts to close the bag, hide what he has, but it's Neil and he's already seen it anyway. Mamet ends up clutching it awkwardly, heat crawling from neck to cheeks.

"Looks like," he says. He opens the bag a little, trying to make his hands relax. "I had this in high school."

[little_moons]

Reaching up and smudging my thumb across his flushed cheek, I let my palm rest on the back of his neck, just holding on. I don't know if it's any comfort to him at all, but I kind of hope so.

"Always knew you were a fuckin' juvenile delinquent."

[canaan_divided]

Mamet closes his eyes, letting his head hang a little. Behind the lids his eyes burn, but Neil's palm is cool on his neck. He's pathetic, he feels like a fucking kid.

He can't help but smile a little, though, staring down at his hands. "Yeah, and you were fuckin' guys for money."

He feels bad, immediately, and sucks in a breath through his nose.

"How'd we get so fucked up?" he asks after a long moment, chewing his lip almost hard enough to bleed.

[inariver]

Often times Ophelia finds herself in places she never would have expected. Her feet move and the rest of her follows all at varying paces. This is how she ends up there in the Hamlet and near Mamet's house no less.

Looking upward, she pauses and gives him a fraction of a smile. "Hullo, stranger," she calls almost wishing she had not said a thing but not caring that she did. Interruptions can be easily brushed away if they wish.

[canaan_divided]

Mamet hugs the back close to his chest, trying to hide it. Needles clank and the spoon falls ping on the bottom step.

"Hi," he says, slightly choked. His smile looks drawn on. "You look good. You look nice today."

[inariver]

"Thank you."

Ophelia steps forward and picks up the spoon from where it fell. Rolling it between her fingers for a moment, she considers the strangeness of a spoon being there to fall inthe first place.

"Thou look quite fine yourself," she replies as she takes a step up to hand the lost object back to him. "Here."

[canaan_divided]

"Thanks," Mamet says, except he really isn't. He takes the spoon and opens a corner of the kit to push it back in.

"So," he says, remembering to breathe, "what...uh, what are you doing out here?"

[yeah_wow_lovely]

"Oh." Cassie's in a green shift dress, belted at the waist to prevent it billowing in such a way as to make her seem larger than she is, her yellow shoes turning rivets in the dirt as she watches him.

"But you don't," she says, wondering. She won't be surprised if it turns out a lie. "You told me. Not anymore."

[canaan_divided]

Mamet startles, closing the bag with a loud slap. He stares up at Cassie, eyes wide and heart thumping loudly in his chest.

"I don't," he says, "it's not mine." He takes a breath. "I mean, it is mine. I just don't. Uh. I didn't ask for it. Sometimes the island, or, I don't know who. Sometimes your shit shows up from home. Like, um...like from your past. I don't want this."

Fuck, he can't stop talking.

[yeah_wow_lovely]

"Like little wooden wolves on a chain," says Cassie. That large boy, Jacob, he'd been given a present, too.

"He didn't want his, either," she murmurs to herself, stretching out her fingers towards the bag. "Shall you start again now?" He'd said he doesn't want it, but that rarely matters where drugs are concerned.

[canaan_divided]

Mamet shakes his head, shoving the spoon back into the back and zipping it, mouth in a thin line.

He wants to. He doesn't want to. He thinks he might throw up.

"I need to get rid of it," he finally says.