funny_herman | Just thoughtful.

Current Mood: not broody

Just thoughtful.

Danny and Frankie are spending a lot of time together. A lot. I wouldn't say that they are particularly affectionate toward each other. Indulgent, is the word, I think.

In the meantime, I am slowly coming to terms with what has been bothering me. I've been trying too hard to not feel sad. I've had my bouts with grief, but each time I do I push it further back within me. The pasted-on happy face and demeanor diminish all too easily, and the pain comes back all too strongly.

I have to live with it. I simply have to live with it. And I must move on.

Adam is still in the hospital. It seems as though he's been there for an inordinately long time. I wonder what he would say if I were to show up....

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*He's asleep. His hands are hanging in his restraints like men hanging from the rafters soon after committing suicide. He is lightly snoring, bottom lip vibrating every once and a while and nose twitching to some unseen dream. He shifts smacking his lips. As if a dog in the middle of a dream he kicks his feet, relents, and falls back into a slumber.*

*After the nurse shows Herman to Adam's room, she leaves wondering why on earth would anyone want to visit that man. Now alone with him, he approaches the bed curiously, frowning at the restraints on Adam's wrists. He quietly observes him twitch and kick as a dream plays out, and resigns himself to a nearby chair, which creaks slightly when he sits down.*

*At the sound he snorts struggling awake. He gasps a bit as he shoots up as much as his side will allow him. He frowns at the man sitting there, blinking and pulling his hand near his eyes to rub them clear.*

Awe fuck. Now I'm hallucinating. *He collapses back on the bed giving a short huff, and then becomes interested in his fingernails hovering above his head, jagged with lack of upkeep.*

Actually no, you're not hallucinating... *he gets up, the chair creaking again in return, and stands by the bed* I'm sorry I woke you. And I hope you don't mind my being here.

*He raises an eyebrow.* As long as you don't mind me being here. And as long as you don't sit on me or tighten my nifty bracelets here, I think we'll get along just fine. *He shimmies up into a sitting position, hair hanging limply over his left eye.*

*stands there a moment, his brow slightly knitted; he then reaches for the wrist nearest him and begins to undo the strap* I think these can do with a little loosening.

Careful, canary, or you'll get on my good side. *He blinks slowly.* So, what brings you here, darling? *He swallows.*

*he doesn't completely undo the strap, but makes it just loose enough for him to slip his hand through, in case the nurse suddenly comes back in; he leans over the bed to reach for his other wrist and does the same*

*ignoring his first comment, he replies to the question, while adjusting the strap:* A taxi cab. That, and my wondering about how you're getting along.

*leans back and puts his hands in his pockets, eyeing him with casual sympathy*

How am I getting along? *He laughs rubbing his wrists.* I'm sleeping most of the day. When I'm not sleeping I'm being poked. When I'm not being poked I'm experiencing a verbal barage from whoever deems it appropriate to come with the intent of letting go all of their stress on me. Granted, I end up doing the same on them perhaps leading to the sour disposition, but don't you think it's quite alright that I'm under a little bit of stress?

How am I getting along? *He rubs the scruff of his face.* I've not had a shave in a week or more or a proper bath. I've not had sex. I might have to stay another week because of Kost's enthusiastic rear sitting right on my side out of sheer bitterness.

How am I getting along...let's see, canary. I think that'd be a pretty definite-bad. *He sighs.* And what about you, Herman? Please tell me you aren't quite so bad off.

*he listens to his complaints with a slight frown and wonders vaguely if he can do anything about it; when Adam's finished, he sighs himself and shrugs his shoulders*

No, not so bad. I'm just...you know... *shrugs again* Doing all right, I suppose. Still surviving. Not much going on at the Klub, so you're not missing much. And oh, I took a trip with Danny to London where we experienced several nights of unabashed, unbridled, and unhinged drunken debauchery. *scratches the side of his nose to hide a slight smirk*

Ah-ha! *A drawn grin appears on his face.* So, you and Danny painted the town, canary? I guess that man's good for something. From what I hear he's good for a lot of things. *He hesitates.* Oh yeah, don't tell him I said his name right. He'd never let me live it down.

So...*He squints at Herman pulling his lips in and then popping them out.* You...you must miss 'er huh, doll?

*chuckles lightly* Don't worry, I won't mention it to Danny.

*his expression grows serious and a bit sad, and he turns and wanders to the foot of the bed, leaning on the railing and inspecting a corner of the bedsheet* Yes. Very much. But I just have to live with it, don't I? Just like I have lived with every other loss. *a touch of uncharacteristic cynicism inadvertently tinges his voice*

You've lost! Are you kidding me, canary? Are you seriously joking? My God, do you know some people go their entire lives without knowing the stupidity of being in love? Do you know how euphoric that feeling is? Of course you do, you fucking lug.

So you've loved and loss. So you've done it more than one time. Do you realise how many people would be jealous for just the first time? My fucking God, how Goddamned lucky does one guy have to be to experience that thing more than once?

I don't like love, Herman. Don't get me wrong, I'm not getting soft. But hell. You must got a hell of a lot to give if you have more than one. And on that note, sorry your such a good person. Really fucking sucks sometimes. You're a lot fucking braver than I.

*he raises his eyes a moment to watch him as he speaks, his brow furrowed, then lowers them again to pick at a loose thread*

I don't feel any more special than the next person. I certainly don't feel brave. And now you've just succeeded in making me feel selfish for some reason. *utters a mirthless chuckle and rubs his forehead in frustration*

Yeah. Well. I'm good at that.

*He turns away from him playing idly with the cuffs. He then folds his arms around himself not having anything more to say, not particularly feeling like saying anything.*

*after a moment of heavy silence, he sticks his hands in his pockets and paces toward the far end of the room* You could be right, though, in a way. *sniffs and clears his throat, turning to face him* Well. Is there anything I can get you before I leave?

*He holds his breath thinking of a veritable list of things he desires to have. But when finally it all comes back to one thing he breathes out and looks at him in complete seriousness.* You can get me the hell out of here.

*he raises his eyes and meets his gaze with equal seriousness* I'll try.

*he reaches out and gives him a reasurring pat on the shin before he turns toward the door*

You do that, canary. *He sinks his head back into the pillow drowsily.*

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Just thoughtful.

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