[ The computer chimes behind him as he's changing out of his getup-- Alby is nothing if not dedicated to the image, considering they're working up to actually meeting with families that have been helped by social workers-- and he turns to look at the screen before he pulls a shirt over his head and moves over to take a seat in his chair again.
When he'd started talking to the founders of the Gladers, he'd never really anticipated becoming one of them. Especially not as quickly as he had. It wasn't his intention when he'd decided to contact them, talking about the videos they'd thrown up and the various posts they'd done, reviews and critiques and everything under the sun. (Newt's were always more charmingly sardonic, whereas Minho was comically blunt, and he'd been amused by both.) But he'd never complain about its place in his life, for as much he wants to strangle people some days (Gally, for starters). Not when it'd introduced him to Newt. ]
Good but stressful. We did roleplay scenarios, potential clients we might wind up meeting. [ For a moment he hovers over the call button, but leaves it be. It wouldn't be the first time by a longshot they've called one another, but something tells him to give it a moment. He knows Newt by now, better than he ever has anyone else-- and he could say the same in reverse, that Newt knows him better than anyone ever has. So while he's actually openly fine with sharing calls with him, he also just gets a feeling in his gut that something is off.
They've talked often enough that there's no front between them, and in the past week or so he knows better than to think that Newt's been all right. Minho's noticed it, and he's sure even Thomas has at this point. But whether they've really caught what's up or not is another matter entirely. Alby plans to get to the bottom of it, because the idea that Newt's suffering in any way hurts more than anything. ]
[ he pauses with his fingers floating over the keys for a second, trying to decide what to say. honestly, it'd been a bad day. a bad week, even. a bad month. probably worse than that, but at the moment, he doesn't want to let alby know that. or at least, that's his initial reaction, and he stares at the computer screen for a second, thinking.
shifting down in bed, he pulls the blankets up over his thin shoulders and types. ]
Long.
[ that's a good place to start, at least. newt's quiet for a little bit, enough that the "typing" pencil slides across the screen a couple times, like he's still thinking, before hitting the voice call button.
he was going to ask to play games for a little bit, but the idea of hearing alby's voice sounds kind of nice right now. there's always something comforting about talking to him--it's why newt's kept trying to encourage him when he first mentioned wanting to become a social worker. he'd be amazing at it, because if anyone--anyone--could help rescue someone from a terrible situation, it would be alby.
[ As always, Alby waits as he watches the pencil scribble across the screen. His silence is usually prompting, in the conversations between the two of them, regardless of whether it's text or verbal. It gives Newt the chance to work at his own pace when trying to decide how to word what he wants to say, and while right now it's fairly worrying he still waits.
The moment that his computer starts to ring with the familiar melody, he hits accept. ] Hey.
[ Tired as he is, he still sounds softly pleased to be talking to him. They're friends, to be sure, but they've been something more than that for a while now. It doesn't have a label and he doesn't know if it ever will, but he's content where they sit. Newt is a reprieve at the end of the day, that person that he'd spoken to for the first time and decided that yes, this was the person he'd been looking for for a long time. He wasn't sure how it was, at the time, but he figures he knows now. ]
Gonna be up for a while? [ Sometimes all he wants to do is sleep, but he's pushed past it these days. It's a determination to get through it, except he knows not everyone can do the same as he does. Here, Newt's been exhausted for a while. He's seen it in their video calls, read it in his texts, heard it in his voice. Maybe he can do something, maybe he can't, but he just wants to try regardless of what it is.
Even if it's just the handful of Skype calls they have, the games they play together. ]
[ whatever's curled up in his chest just seizes in relief the moment he hears alby's voice--there's something so stupidly comforting about just that little gesture, the fact that he instantly answers and the sound of his voice that newt has to swallow back a lump in his throat. he's so, so tired. if there's one thing in this world he's gonna miss, it's gonna be alby, right here, these late night phone conversations and hours and hours of video gaming. they've been a team in every co-op game they've ever played as a group, because it just felt natural.
if there's one thing that's kept him here this long, it's alby.
his voice is quiet when he speaks up, accent thick even over skype. ] Yeah. [ newt runs a hand through his curls even where alby can't see it, exhaling loudly. ] Tired of lookin' at the computer screen. 's all I do every lovin' day at work.
[ this way he can just lay here and talk. a part of him, kind of selfishly, wishes alby was here right now. he'd talk him out of it. he'd probably do it now, hell. but there's no way they're going to be seeing each other anytime soon.
tomorrow's gonna be the day, he thinks. tomorrow. ] Are you tired?
It can happen, man. [ For as much time as they spend on the computers every single day, Alby doesn't blame him. There's that feeling that it's something more, that it's not the only thing bothering him, but he just focuses on getting Newt talking. He's so far away that it's all he can really do, even if they only have half a day's drive between them compared to the cross-country distance between them and Thomas. He would drive it in even less, if Newt ever asked him to.
Just drop everything and book it out of Seattle to get to him. He's more than just his co-op partner, more than just his best friend. If he so much as gave the smallest indicator, he would do more than just talk with him over Skype.
How someone became so important to him, he doesn't know. He spent much of his life lacking in people like Newt, friends he could really count on. Family. Now he has it, gruff and grating as he can be, and he doesn't want to let go of it for anything.
He exhales just as noisily, slumping in his seat and staring up at the ceiling. Social work is an exhausting thing, something that can really drain on you, and he knows it. He knows that if he actually gets a job working in the community, he's going to see a lot of shit that he's not going to want to see. But he'll do it anyways. ] Lil', but not enough to go to bed.
Yeah. Don't think I'm gonna be sleepin proper for tonight. [ he hasn't, really, in a few days. picking at his food, not really sleeping--honestly, there's a reason he's been avoiding minho, because he knows that minho'd probably kick his ass if he saw what was happening. if he knew. but newt's always been pretty good at putting up a front, and "picked up a few extra hours at work" is a lot easier than "sort of planning to off myself when the weather's right. it's not that he wants to lie--it makes him feel worse--but he knows that minho is going to try to fix it, and newt is pretty sure at this point, he counts as unfixable.
scrubbing a hand over his face, he tries to pretend he's not glad that he still wants to talk. if it's the last one, it's gonna be a good one. so, curling a little further into the blankets, newt tips over on his side, thinking about it. yeah, he probably looks like crap, but-- ] Y'wanna video?
I don't have class 'til late, 'n work 'til later. [ So if Newt isn't sleeping proper, then Alby won't be either. He's been staying up later and later lately, despite the fact he has work across the spectrum he needs to do, but it's more important to be there for Newt than it is to get those things done. At least he hasn't been missing class yet, but he's... been worried, there's no two ways around it. They're so in sync these days that he can tell.
Maybe he should head down for a weekend, surprise Newt. Take him somewhere so that he doesn't have to think about work.
Just like when Newt initiated the call, his response is instant: Alby moves his mouse over to turn on his camera with one hand, his other reaching to turn on his lamp. He'll move to his bed eventually, but right now this'll at least provide light to actually see him. The few plights of having dark skin. ]
[ he doesn't even really get the chance to respond before alby's face pops up on the screen--newt smiles before he even really knows what to do with himself and turns his own too. for a second, he's presented with a view of bony hips as gets up on his knees to reach the light switch, then comes back down to actually look at him. newt figures he looks like crap, but he honestly doesn't care, because alby's a sight for bloody sore eyes.
the attraction's there, has been there. will anything ever happen? no, considering. he loves alby--there's no real "like" there. maybe at one point, but he's been the one thing in the world that's made him feel again, because being depressed is like seeing the entire world through blinders, and alby is the one person who usually shows him the light, grumpy and gruff as he can be.
the smile on his face is genuine, if small, a little toothy, and he ducks his head before waving, just a wiggle of his fingers because he can. ] Got the day off tomorrow, so. Maybe later we can log another round on WCKD, or somethin.
[ he told minho he had work. oh well. newt doesn't really care if the streams get crossed at this point. shifting onto his side, he puts his cheek in his hand, getting comfortable. ] Bloody startled me, thought you were a ghost.
[ that's a joke, anyway, playfully referring to the light. ]
[ Eyes tracking Newt's movements, the pale jut of his hips as they come into his line of sight, Alby threads his fingers together, propping his chin on his thumbs and tucking the lower half of his face against the fold of his fingers. Around either side of them, his mouth obviously quirks up at the corners in the slightest smile of his own. Newt looks awful, like he's not been sleeping or hasn't been eating right. It doesn't quite reach his eyes, but maybe the camera in the dim light won't pick it up, because his heart is suddenly in his throat and that concern is just amplified.
There have only been so many people in Alby's life that he can say he's genuinely loved. He loved his mother when he knew her, loved a girl he grew up with before he was shuttled through the system. But he loves Newt more than he'd ever have expected to care about anyone ever again, with fleeting foster families that either decided they couldn't reach out to him or were using him for the money, the there-and-gone "family" he'd made of other kids. ]
Sounds like a plan to me. Haven't played for near 'bout a week, I think. [ His hands lower from his face, and he raises one to give him a little wave back, the slightest twitch of fingers. There's a quiet, concerned affection in his face as he watches him, settling back in his seat. Very few people get more than his gruff attitude, but here Newt gets the whole run.
He rolls his eyes at him as he reaches to pick his laptop up, raising his legs and stretching them across his desk until he can resettle his computer perched on his knees. ] I'll tell you horror stories.
Me either. [ unsurprising; newt likes to play, but a co-op game is usually pretty hard to play when your teammate's busy. he could play with minho, but minho is currently trying to beat the game faster than he and alby can with thomas, and that would be like practically cheating. plus, sometimes they record their LPs for people to watch and listen to, so it's just...weird doing it without alby, now. at first, it had been him and minho, but the glader phenom had really grown into something huge, and newt was happy, for it. it was a little bright spot, something to keep him happy and satisfied, and he threw himself into it with as much verve and passion as he could manage, always making sure even the youngest "glader"--a thirteen year old from massachusetts named chuck, who was a close friend of thomas'--got in for at least a couple rounds of lp-ing.
but the late night sessions where he and alby played and talked all night were his favorite. pokemon races, co-op games, trying to beat each other at stupid things, even visiting each other's towns in animal crossing. it'd become a lot more than a game, and sometimes getting a ping that "alby's come to visit!" felt a lot closer than the daylong drive between them.
his smile's not fake, for as much as it doesn't light up his face like it usually does--newt laughs, quietly, and rolls his eyes, but it's nothing but good natured. ] Yeah, about the invisible man? Terrifying, 'f I hadn't heard it a million buggin' times in middle school.
[ dropping his head into his hands, he watches him, a little bit of warmth in his blue eyes. ] 's Jack who's the horror wussy. We're not scared enough during, apparently, so I passed the next Amnesia off to him and Winston.
[ Even between classes and during breaks, Alby hasn't had too much time to play anything on his 3DS. What few moments of freetime that he's managed to get have been devoted to popping into Newt's village or throttling Minho in a pokémon battle when they're both around but their usual partners aren't. It's one of the few times that they bond in a slightly less combative way, outside of Glader chats and "Keeper" meetings, because it's usually Newt/Alby versus Thomas/Minho in all their games. (Which is why Minho usually sets his house in Minecraft on fire before Alby can get the chance to do the same to his.)
Much as he's fond of the other Gladers-- even greenies like Chuck and Thomas-- he'll take every moment playing with Newt. They're partners, and the blond on the computer screen is literally his other half. LPs and vlog updates for the channel and just various announcements, it's always the two of them together and not alone. He didn't expect it, but here it is, and he wouldn't give it up for anything really. It's not just a game anymore, and it's not some online life in contrast to his "real" life. Newt is real as anything, and so are the feelings there.
It'd just be nice if they had more than Skype, more than messages sent over Animal Crossing and texts and e-mails. Something in him is a little soothed at the smile, and his laugh. ]
Spoilin' everything for me. [ But shrugs, spreading his hands wide as he does before he folds them on his chest. Amusement curls his expression again, faint and quiet but there for Newt. ]
Think Minho's going to pick up doing custom stories for Amnesia, not that he gets scared by 'em anymore. Better him than us, though.
[ what had started as a friendship based around video games had turned into something else entirely. newt usually keeps his phone around his desk at work if only to text alby, see how he's doing--he usually has some story about his classes, or the kids he's working with. newt's phone is pretty much him and no one else (plus sent texts of him nagging minho to pick up some damn milk and minho sending him fifty emojis in response) and he's 100% okay with that. it's to the point that he's seen fans post things about them together, and newt doubts that alby's oblivious to it, but.
but he can't drag him down like that, he just can't.
for now, he tries to forget about what feels like a stormcloud hanging over his head and smiles at alby's sense of humor, a squinty little thing as he readjusts on the pillows, wrapping his arms around one and using it as a support. ] 's my job, klunker, and don't you forget it.
Good that. [ he nods, head tilting from left to right. ] We should try to finish WCKD tonight.
[ The fans have a critical eye and always have. They've picked up on the twist in their relationship, and the one that sits with Thomas and Minho-- who are both shucking idiots-- but all the same, Alby hasn't done anything with it yet. He's not stupid, he knows that there's a lot more than just friendship there, too. But with the way Newt's been lately, he's been taking care with the progression of... well, anything.
All he can do right now is try to take care of his best friend, hopefully help him feel just a little better.
Watching Newt readjust where he's settled, he snorts dryly at him. ] Thought we shared that job? [ But he just reaches for his mouse, inclining his head in a slight nod. Playing with Newt is literally his favorite thing to do, and if it'll help somehow. ]
You're the one who gets your knickers in a twist anytime somebody wants to talk t'you about a movie you haven't seen. [ his sniping is playful and it brings a little light back to his eyes, a smile sliding across his cheeks. it's the kind of playful ribbing he thinks really only he can get away with, and that really helps to solidify things between them. alby is newt's best friend, and it feels like he can tell him anything most days, and he's already started mentally composing what he's going to send him tomorrow, in a text.
Alby; I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you aren't allowed to be upset. I wanted it. I love you.
Or something of that sort. Shaking his head a little to disperse the thoughts for now, he goes to find his mouse as well, propping himself up to pull the game up on his laptop. ] Just a couple missions t'go, anyway.
I don't want to be spoiled! I'll see 'em in my own time. [ Alby outright harrumphs at that, like he's personally offended at the rib. But he's not, not when it comes from Newt-- he might still act grumpy as he does with everyone else, but the irritation never quite reaches his eyes when it's this easy teasing between them. He really is the only one that can get away with provoking Alby in any way, and he can't even really complain about it. They're practically married, and everyone calls them the married Gladers, so. There's that. If it makes Newt laugh the way he does, gets those smiles to light his eyes again, then he'll take the teasing.
Oblivious to the thoughts filtering through his friend's head, he plugs in his mouse and wiggles the track ball back and forth until the cursor moves with it, rearranging all of his windows so that he can pull the game up. ]
Bet we could beat it before morning if we don't shuck off too much. [ He has to move around, actually sit at his desk properly and relocate his laptop to his desk so that he can prep for the game. ]
Six months after the fact. [ the grumpy tone to his voice just makes newt smile, a soft, crooked little thing full of affection that's blatantly obvious even on the other end of skype. minho was always saying that newt was secretly a grumpy old man, and maybe that was why they made such a good match. for as friendly as newt could be sometimes, he was still maybe a little curmudgeonly, and alby was the same, with about half as much friendliness. it wasn't his fault; they kept each other tempered, calmed down when people were ruffling their feathers.
it's part of why he's so sorry he has to go, but he can't put everything on alby's shoulders.
pulling up the start screen for WCKD, there's the soft sound of him typing as he logs into the system. for a few minutes, it's quiet, besides a murmured "good that" as he considers the suggestion. he'd like that, he doesn't need to sleep. spending his last night on earth with alby is a pretty good way to go.
eventually, he speaks up, a soft "hang on" as he disappears out of the video feed--he comes back in an old, familiar gray sweatshirt, then resettles back into his place on the bed, mouse on a mousepad beside him. there's an odd urgency to his voice when he returns to speaking again, loading up his character. ] We have to beat the whole thing, tonight, no matter what. Promise.
Oh, slim it. [ A mock-grouchy look comes across his face, and Alby waves him off. It's obvious with the way the corners of his mouth twitch that he's trying not to smile back, something that only Newt can really accomplish. Minho calls them both old men, says they're perfect for each other in their crotchety ways, and maybe they are. Newt frequently keeps him grounded, rather than inciting his ire further (most days, anyways). Where he's the more abrassive one, the blond smooths things out. They really are a good pair.
And he tries, he does, to be there when Newt needs him. If only he knew.
A sound of agreement leaves him, as he loads up the game and adjusts where the image of Newt is-- moving him to the top right and resizing the little box-- so that he can gear up for the game. It's a one-two-three after that, his character selected as he waits for Newt to come back.
When he does, the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, something small and affectionate as he sees the old sweater from ages ago. It technically fits Newt right, except for the part where he's seen him sitting with it hanging off a shoulder before. But that fondness fades at the urgency, and his brow furrows a little. ] ... yeah, Newt. Promise we will. [ And yet he still offers him the promise. ]
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no subject
When he'd started talking to the founders of the Gladers, he'd never really anticipated becoming one of them. Especially not as quickly as he had. It wasn't his intention when he'd decided to contact them, talking about the videos they'd thrown up and the various posts they'd done, reviews and critiques and everything under the sun. (Newt's were always more charmingly sardonic, whereas Minho was comically blunt, and he'd been amused by both.) But he'd never complain about its place in his life, for as much he wants to strangle people some days (Gally, for starters). Not when it'd introduced him to Newt. ]
Good but stressful. We did roleplay scenarios, potential clients we might wind up meeting. [ For a moment he hovers over the call button, but leaves it be. It wouldn't be the first time by a longshot they've called one another, but something tells him to give it a moment. He knows Newt by now, better than he ever has anyone else-- and he could say the same in reverse, that Newt knows him better than anyone ever has. So while he's actually openly fine with sharing calls with him, he also just gets a feeling in his gut that something is off.
They've talked often enough that there's no front between them, and in the past week or so he knows better than to think that Newt's been all right. Minho's noticed it, and he's sure even Thomas has at this point. But whether they've really caught what's up or not is another matter entirely. Alby plans to get to the bottom of it, because the idea that Newt's suffering in any way hurts more than anything. ]
How was your day?
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shifting down in bed, he pulls the blankets up over his thin shoulders and types. ]
Long.
[ that's a good place to start, at least. newt's quiet for a little bit, enough that the "typing" pencil slides across the screen a couple times, like he's still thinking, before hitting the voice call button.
he was going to ask to play games for a little bit, but the idea of hearing alby's voice sounds kind of nice right now. there's always something comforting about talking to him--it's why newt's kept trying to encourage him when he first mentioned wanting to become a social worker. he'd be amazing at it, because if anyone--anyone--could help rescue someone from a terrible situation, it would be alby.
he's rescued newt a thousand times. ]
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The moment that his computer starts to ring with the familiar melody, he hits accept. ] Hey.
[ Tired as he is, he still sounds softly pleased to be talking to him. They're friends, to be sure, but they've been something more than that for a while now. It doesn't have a label and he doesn't know if it ever will, but he's content where they sit. Newt is a reprieve at the end of the day, that person that he'd spoken to for the first time and decided that yes, this was the person he'd been looking for for a long time. He wasn't sure how it was, at the time, but he figures he knows now. ]
Gonna be up for a while? [ Sometimes all he wants to do is sleep, but he's pushed past it these days. It's a determination to get through it, except he knows not everyone can do the same as he does. Here, Newt's been exhausted for a while. He's seen it in their video calls, read it in his texts, heard it in his voice. Maybe he can do something, maybe he can't, but he just wants to try regardless of what it is.
Even if it's just the handful of Skype calls they have, the games they play together. ]
no subject
if there's one thing that's kept him here this long, it's alby.
his voice is quiet when he speaks up, accent thick even over skype. ] Yeah. [ newt runs a hand through his curls even where alby can't see it, exhaling loudly. ] Tired of lookin' at the computer screen. 's all I do every lovin' day at work.
[ this way he can just lay here and talk. a part of him, kind of selfishly, wishes alby was here right now. he'd talk him out of it. he'd probably do it now, hell. but there's no way they're going to be seeing each other anytime soon.
tomorrow's gonna be the day, he thinks. tomorrow. ] Are you tired?
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Just drop everything and book it out of Seattle to get to him. He's more than just his co-op partner, more than just his best friend. If he so much as gave the smallest indicator, he would do more than just talk with him over Skype.
How someone became so important to him, he doesn't know. He spent much of his life lacking in people like Newt, friends he could really count on. Family. Now he has it, gruff and grating as he can be, and he doesn't want to let go of it for anything.
He exhales just as noisily, slumping in his seat and staring up at the ceiling. Social work is an exhausting thing, something that can really drain on you, and he knows it. He knows that if he actually gets a job working in the community, he's going to see a lot of shit that he's not going to want to see. But he'll do it anyways. ] Lil', but not enough to go to bed.
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scrubbing a hand over his face, he tries to pretend he's not glad that he still wants to talk. if it's the last one, it's gonna be a good one. so, curling a little further into the blankets, newt tips over on his side, thinking about it. yeah, he probably looks like crap, but-- ] Y'wanna video?
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Maybe he should head down for a weekend, surprise Newt. Take him somewhere so that he doesn't have to think about work.
Just like when Newt initiated the call, his response is instant: Alby moves his mouse over to turn on his camera with one hand, his other reaching to turn on his lamp. He'll move to his bed eventually, but right now this'll at least provide light to actually see him. The few plights of having dark skin. ]
no subject
the attraction's there, has been there. will anything ever happen? no, considering. he loves alby--there's no real "like" there. maybe at one point, but he's been the one thing in the world that's made him feel again, because being depressed is like seeing the entire world through blinders, and alby is the one person who usually shows him the light, grumpy and gruff as he can be.
the smile on his face is genuine, if small, a little toothy, and he ducks his head before waving, just a wiggle of his fingers because he can. ] Got the day off tomorrow, so. Maybe later we can log another round on WCKD, or somethin.
[ he told minho he had work. oh well. newt doesn't really care if the streams get crossed at this point. shifting onto his side, he puts his cheek in his hand, getting comfortable. ] Bloody startled me, thought you were a ghost.
[ that's a joke, anyway, playfully referring to the light. ]
no subject
There have only been so many people in Alby's life that he can say he's genuinely loved. He loved his mother when he knew her, loved a girl he grew up with before he was shuttled through the system. But he loves Newt more than he'd ever have expected to care about anyone ever again, with fleeting foster families that either decided they couldn't reach out to him or were using him for the money, the there-and-gone "family" he'd made of other kids. ]
Sounds like a plan to me. Haven't played for near 'bout a week, I think. [ His hands lower from his face, and he raises one to give him a little wave back, the slightest twitch of fingers. There's a quiet, concerned affection in his face as he watches him, settling back in his seat. Very few people get more than his gruff attitude, but here Newt gets the whole run.
He rolls his eyes at him as he reaches to pick his laptop up, raising his legs and stretching them across his desk until he can resettle his computer perched on his knees. ] I'll tell you horror stories.
[ He wingles his fingers at the camera. ]
no subject
but the late night sessions where he and alby played and talked all night were his favorite. pokemon races, co-op games, trying to beat each other at stupid things, even visiting each other's towns in animal crossing. it'd become a lot more than a game, and sometimes getting a ping that "alby's come to visit!" felt a lot closer than the daylong drive between them.
his smile's not fake, for as much as it doesn't light up his face like it usually does--newt laughs, quietly, and rolls his eyes, but it's nothing but good natured. ] Yeah, about the invisible man? Terrifying, 'f I hadn't heard it a million buggin' times in middle school.
[ dropping his head into his hands, he watches him, a little bit of warmth in his blue eyes. ] 's Jack who's the horror wussy. We're not scared enough during, apparently, so I passed the next Amnesia off to him and Winston.
[ and because he won't be around to play it. ]
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Much as he's fond of the other Gladers-- even greenies like Chuck and Thomas-- he'll take every moment playing with Newt. They're partners, and the blond on the computer screen is literally his other half. LPs and vlog updates for the channel and just various announcements, it's always the two of them together and not alone. He didn't expect it, but here it is, and he wouldn't give it up for anything really. It's not just a game anymore, and it's not some online life in contrast to his "real" life. Newt is real as anything, and so are the feelings there.
It'd just be nice if they had more than Skype, more than messages sent over Animal Crossing and texts and e-mails. Something in him is a little soothed at the smile, and his laugh. ]
Spoilin' everything for me. [ But shrugs, spreading his hands wide as he does before he folds them on his chest. Amusement curls his expression again, faint and quiet but there for Newt. ]
Think Minho's going to pick up doing custom stories for Amnesia, not that he gets scared by 'em anymore. Better him than us, though.
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but he can't drag him down like that, he just can't.
for now, he tries to forget about what feels like a stormcloud hanging over his head and smiles at alby's sense of humor, a squinty little thing as he readjusts on the pillows, wrapping his arms around one and using it as a support. ] 's my job, klunker, and don't you forget it.
Good that. [ he nods, head tilting from left to right. ] We should try to finish WCKD tonight.
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All he can do right now is try to take care of his best friend, hopefully help him feel just a little better.
Watching Newt readjust where he's settled, he snorts dryly at him. ] Thought we shared that job? [ But he just reaches for his mouse, inclining his head in a slight nod. Playing with Newt is literally his favorite thing to do, and if it'll help somehow. ]
Think we could prob'ly swing it.
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Alby; I'm sorry it had to be this way, but you aren't allowed to be upset. I wanted it. I love you.
Or something of that sort. Shaking his head a little to disperse the thoughts for now, he goes to find his mouse as well, propping himself up to pull the game up on his laptop. ] Just a couple missions t'go, anyway.
no subject
Oblivious to the thoughts filtering through his friend's head, he plugs in his mouse and wiggles the track ball back and forth until the cursor moves with it, rearranging all of his windows so that he can pull the game up. ]
Bet we could beat it before morning if we don't shuck off too much. [ He has to move around, actually sit at his desk properly and relocate his laptop to his desk so that he can prep for the game. ]
too tired for hte other one too feelsy @A@
it's part of why he's so sorry he has to go, but he can't put everything on alby's shoulders.
pulling up the start screen for WCKD, there's the soft sound of him typing as he logs into the system. for a few minutes, it's quiet, besides a murmured "good that" as he considers the suggestion. he'd like that, he doesn't need to sleep. spending his last night on earth with alby is a pretty good way to go.
eventually, he speaks up, a soft "hang on" as he disappears out of the video feed--he comes back in an old, familiar gray sweatshirt, then resettles back into his place on the bed, mouse on a mousepad beside him. there's an odd urgency to his voice when he returns to speaking again, loading up his character. ] We have to beat the whole thing, tonight, no matter what. Promise.
14/28 done more rewards.
And he tries, he does, to be there when Newt needs him. If only he knew.
A sound of agreement leaves him, as he loads up the game and adjusts where the image of Newt is-- moving him to the top right and resizing the little box-- so that he can gear up for the game. It's a one-two-three after that, his character selected as he waits for Newt to come back.
When he does, the corners of his eyes crinkle a little, something small and affectionate as he sees the old sweater from ages ago. It technically fits Newt right, except for the part where he's seen him sitting with it hanging off a shoulder before. But that fondness fades at the urgency, and his brow furrows a little. ] ... yeah, Newt. Promise we will. [ And yet he still offers him the promise. ]