Room 239, Very Early Wednesday Morning
Jul. 9th, 2024 09:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
napkingWhen one episode of the anime Gray was binging because Sloth had decided he needed to be wide awake in the middle of the night ended, Gray paused instead of letting it roll into the next one and picked up his phone to check the time, which indicated that the sky was probably starting to lighten outside his blackout curtains. Yeah. Now would be good.
"Gray?" Alastair asked sleepily when he picked up on the second ring. "Do you have any idea what time it is in California?"
"No," Gray lied. No, Al, he had totally not timed this call to find you too deeply asleep to ask too many questions, why did you ask?
Joseph asked a sleepy half-question, and Alastair told him quietly, "It's just Gray. You know he doesn't have a circadian rhythm. Go back to sleep." Gray listened to him padding into the bathroom or the hall or somewhere, imagined him wiping sleep from his eyes, before Alastair beseeched him, "Please tell me you didn't call just to chat." He was so wiped. It was perfect. Gray felt a little bit guilty for waking him up, even.
"I need to talk to Laz," Gray said, doing his best to sound like he didn't know why Alastair could telepathically communicate with Lazarus. They'd always assumed it was some kind of angelic line of communication, for him to give them orders as much as for Alastair to tell him when they needed his attention, but there had been times it would have been convenient if he could communicate with more than one of them, and that had always been treated as impossible.
Gray had grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until his voice went when he'd realized. It was a good thing he healed fast; he didn't even sound hoarse now.
The silence stretched a little long, which meant Alastair was waking his brain up to deal with this. No. Bad. Eventually, he said just, "Lazarus."
"Yeah," Gray said. Chill. He was so, so chill. Just the chillest. Nothing at all suspicious here, no sirree.
"Why?"
"Island stuff."
"Island stuff," Alastair repeated.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Gray lied. "But there was a weird weekend and if I don't tell Laz he'll be mad later, so...I mean, I'll tell you guys, too, but I'd rather just do that once, next time I'm home, y'know?" After he'd come up with a version he could tell them, which was, regrettably, probably going to be a collaborative effort with the worst angel he knew. (Also the only angel he knew, but he stood by it.)
"I'll let him know," Alastair promised. "What he does from there is up to him, you know that."
"Yeah," Gray agreed, "but if he blows me off then it's a him problem, not a me problem." Alastair made an understanding noise, and Gray asked, "How's Joseph?" to end this conversation on a 'not about Lazarus' note.
"He's...good," Alastair said, but that pause spoke enough to put a lump in Gray's throat. "He's going for some tests next week."
"Is something wrong?"
"We don't know yet. I'm sure it's nothing." Joseph had been long gone in that future Gray remembered, and twenty years was long enough that it might just have been age, but...somehow Gray doubted it. He knew what it sounded like when it was Pride saying, "I'm sure he's fine," because it couldn't accept that he might not be.
"Yeah," Gray said, hollow this time. "Well. I'll let you get back to sleep. Give my love to Joseph and the others, and ping Laz for me sometime."
"I will," Alastair promised, and hung up without saying goodbye, the faster to get back to bed and dreamland.
And now...he hit play on the next episode of his show, and he waited.
(Establishy, but if any other dorm-dwellers are awake at butt o'clock and want to knock on Gray's door they totally can!)
"Gray?" Alastair asked sleepily when he picked up on the second ring. "Do you have any idea what time it is in California?"
"No," Gray lied. No, Al, he had totally not timed this call to find you too deeply asleep to ask too many questions, why did you ask?
Joseph asked a sleepy half-question, and Alastair told him quietly, "It's just Gray. You know he doesn't have a circadian rhythm. Go back to sleep." Gray listened to him padding into the bathroom or the hall or somewhere, imagined him wiping sleep from his eyes, before Alastair beseeched him, "Please tell me you didn't call just to chat." He was so wiped. It was perfect. Gray felt a little bit guilty for waking him up, even.
"I need to talk to Laz," Gray said, doing his best to sound like he didn't know why Alastair could telepathically communicate with Lazarus. They'd always assumed it was some kind of angelic line of communication, for him to give them orders as much as for Alastair to tell him when they needed his attention, but there had been times it would have been convenient if he could communicate with more than one of them, and that had always been treated as impossible.
Gray had grabbed a pillow and screamed into it until his voice went when he'd realized. It was a good thing he healed fast; he didn't even sound hoarse now.
The silence stretched a little long, which meant Alastair was waking his brain up to deal with this. No. Bad. Eventually, he said just, "Lazarus."
"Yeah," Gray said. Chill. He was so, so chill. Just the chillest. Nothing at all suspicious here, no sirree.
"Why?"
"Island stuff."
"Island stuff," Alastair repeated.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Gray lied. "But there was a weird weekend and if I don't tell Laz he'll be mad later, so...I mean, I'll tell you guys, too, but I'd rather just do that once, next time I'm home, y'know?" After he'd come up with a version he could tell them, which was, regrettably, probably going to be a collaborative effort with the worst angel he knew. (Also the only angel he knew, but he stood by it.)
"I'll let him know," Alastair promised. "What he does from there is up to him, you know that."
"Yeah," Gray agreed, "but if he blows me off then it's a him problem, not a me problem." Alastair made an understanding noise, and Gray asked, "How's Joseph?" to end this conversation on a 'not about Lazarus' note.
"He's...good," Alastair said, but that pause spoke enough to put a lump in Gray's throat. "He's going for some tests next week."
"Is something wrong?"
"We don't know yet. I'm sure it's nothing." Joseph had been long gone in that future Gray remembered, and twenty years was long enough that it might just have been age, but...somehow Gray doubted it. He knew what it sounded like when it was Pride saying, "I'm sure he's fine," because it couldn't accept that he might not be.
"Yeah," Gray said, hollow this time. "Well. I'll let you get back to sleep. Give my love to Joseph and the others, and ping Laz for me sometime."
"I will," Alastair promised, and hung up without saying goodbye, the faster to get back to bed and dreamland.
And now...he hit play on the next episode of his show, and he waited.
(Establishy, but if any other dorm-dwellers are awake at butt o'clock and want to knock on Gray's door they totally can!)
