[Richie's steps slow as he balks, brows furrowing.]
I never said anything about being dead.
[But the implication was there, wasn't it? "When I woke up" could be a simple stint in a hospital bed, or it could be the tube-popping escape from the howling afterlife. You wouldn't think of the latter unless it happened to you, would you now?]
...It wouldn't hurt. [He concedes at last. John's looking to push past the sore spot. All right, he can respect that. He doesn't like dwelling on that in polite company either. Leave it for the night, with the bottom ends of whiskey tumblers and dim lights and the silence of an empty apartment, or the wrap of sheets and quilts and a wilting pillow hugging your head.
Except now he's got a sinking feeling about all of this. Staying off of the frontlines was probably for the best, but here he is all out of the loop.]
no subject
I never said anything about being dead.
[But the implication was there, wasn't it? "When I woke up" could be a simple stint in a hospital bed, or it could be the tube-popping escape from the howling afterlife. You wouldn't think of the latter unless it happened to you, would you now?]
...It wouldn't hurt. [He concedes at last. John's looking to push past the sore spot. All right, he can respect that. He doesn't like dwelling on that in polite company either. Leave it for the night, with the bottom ends of whiskey tumblers and dim lights and the silence of an empty apartment, or the wrap of sheets and quilts and a wilting pillow hugging your head.
Except now he's got a sinking feeling about all of this. Staying off of the frontlines was probably for the best, but here he is all out of the loop.]
How many went with you?