Out of sight but not out of mind

[Aaron Clayton]

"Goddamnit."

Aaron wrestled with the handle of the back door leading out of his apartment. He didn't want to go out the front door because he was afraid that Judah might see him from the window that faced the front of the building. Or, worse, that if he looked back and looked up, which he would have, that he'd see Judah at the window peering out at him. Aaron didn't know what would happen if he saw him. He might run back inside. He might never run back inside.

"Piece of shit door," he muttered desperately to himself. After a few more hard pushes it gave away and flung open violently, letting in a gust of howling wind. The rain blew in sideways into his face—still flushed and hot from what had happened earlier. It was kind of good that it did, though. It cooled him down. He stepped outside and hunched his body against the wind, seeking shelter against the wall of the building.

Aaron wasn't going far—he wasn't an idiot. In this weather he'd get soaked in a matter of seconds and end up with pneumonia or something. Getting sick was not an option right now. He had to devote everything he had in him to finding Danny.

So he stood there stupidly hugging himself and letting the wind whip into his face, head thunking back against the rough wall behind him. His heart still hammered in his chest, though. He still heard Judah's voice saying his name. He still felt him, still wanted him. Aaron never stopped wanting him, that was the problem. That was what led to the scene inside and what made Aaron run out to put some physical distance between them.

He planned on staying out for a bit, though. Maybe he ought to get in his car. It was a beat up old jalopy but it still offered some shelter from the rain. He got himself off the wall and wiped the rain from his eyes, turned and saw someone lurch suddenly into sight around the corner. At first Aaron thought they were fighting the wind but then they fell forward and with a soft curse under his breath, he ran over to see what was going on. Maybe drunk, maybe high, or it may be someone in need of help.

[Alva Ren]

Alva felt a pair of hands steadying him and instinctively reached out. His fumbling fingertips encountered a wrist, a forearm, and he latched on tight. Deliriously he looked up; the wind blew all around them like an angry siren, so loud that he could barely hear himself think. "Rae?" He couldn't see who held on to him so his mind defaulted to the first person it knew. The first person it wanted to be here with him in the middle of a storm.

"Hey! Hey you okay?"

He smiled weakly and let himself fall against Rae, relieved in the knowledge that he was safe now in the arms of someone he knew. Rae would take care of him. Rae wouldn't let him go anywhere. Alva nodded as Rae asked again if he was okay. He felt hands on him, lifting up the lapels of his jacket to check him over, to make sure that he wasn't injured. There were no wounds on Alva; the injuries were on someone else. His clothes were stained with blood but the rain lashing down on him had washed most of it away.

Now all there was left was a pinkish stain.

[Aaron Clayton]

The kid was way out of it. Aaron looked him over just to make sure he wasn't hurt; he didn't see any obvious wounds. No rips or tears in his clothes, no bruises from what he could see by the lights of the apartment building. As the kid fell against him, he muttered something that sounded like 'Ray' or 'Rave' and Aaron assumed that maybe he'd partied a little too hard. Drunk guys staggering home at this hour wasn't unheard of. Plus the guy was young, dressed fairly well and despite looking like a drowned rat, Aaron could tell that he wasn't a vagrant.

"C'mon guy, let's get you inside. You live here? Can you give me an apartment number?"

Sighing, he turned them both towards the back entrance. The kid mumbled again, 'Rave,' and Aaron shook his head. Against the howl of the wind it was hard to hear. Maybe him yelling into the poor kid's ear wasn't such a good idea either, if he was that out of it. He slipped one of the kid's arms around his shoulder and bore the brunt of his weight as they both staggered back inside.

Of course the door would stick, though. Of course it would. He grunted as he yanked hard on it and nearly lost the kid, who slid precariously off to the side. Aaron made a hasty grab for him and pulled him back. "Hang on there buddy. Just... one sec..." He pulled so hard that it hurt his shoulder, but the door opened for him again with a bang as it hit the wall and bounced off of it.

Inside where it was significantly quieter, he repeated his question. "Which floor are you on? Which apartment number?"

[Alva Ren]

"Apartment?" He vaguely heard that over the noise of the storm. Why was Rae asking about an apartment? Alva lived in the suburbs with his parents, not in an apartment. It was too difficult to find one that could reasonably accommodate his needs, as most were built quite a long time ago and weren't designed with handicapped people in mind.

Maybe Rae meant that they were going to his apartment. That sounded more plausible even to Alva's scrambled mind. He nodded to give consent. He'd visited Rae before of course, and Rae had helped him into his building and up to his floor. Luckily he didn't live up too high; otherwise it would have been a nightmare getting up and down, especially when the lone elevator broke. Rae didn't live in the nice part of town, where rent was expensive, but that was okay. Alva wasn't with him for the money, after all. 

But in his current state he didn't realize—he wasn't in his chair. He was moving with Rae, letting him support him but for the most part Alva was walking along. At one point he began to slip and let out a softly surprised cry, except Rae grabbed him again and pulled him back in close. Alva sighed. He should've known that Rae would never let him fall.

Inside and with the door closed, it was much quieter. Alva could see better, too... And he saw that it wasn't Rae holding him up. He muttered a swift apology, groggily pushing away. The stranger didn't let him go far, instead lowering him onto the bottom steps of a long staircase leading up.

"I'm sorry... I thought you were... Rae," he murmured as he grabbed onto a section of railing beside him to keep himself upright. 'I... I want to go home..."

[Aaron Clayton]

Oh Rae—that was a name, not a rave. Aaron let the guy down to sit since he looked shaky on his legs, like a newborn foal. He studied him, the paleness of his face and the dilation of his pupils. Drugs, he thought. It was drugs, that was obvious. He noticed the pink stains too, which looked like blood stains, but the guy wasn't hurt anywhere and he wasn't in shock if he'd stabbed or shot someone or seen anything that warranted him having a lot of blood on him.

But of course Aaron would follow up on his observations and investigate further when the guy was more coherent.

And at least right now he wasn't thinking about Judah being upstairs, being upset. He wouldn't have said that this was a good distraction but... it was a helpful distraction. Kneeling in front of the guy, he studied him more keenly. Yep. Drugs.

"This is Greenwood apartments. Do you live here?" He reached out to steady the guy, since he was falling sideways again. "Do you live here? Greenwood apartments?" Aaron repeated himself more clearly, more firmly. The guy shook his head slowly. "Okay, you don't live here." Another shake of the head. "Can you tell me where you live? Or what your name is?"

[Alva Ren]

Greenwood? Oh no, no—Alva didn't live in Greenwood apartments. That was nowhere near where he lived, or where Rae lived. He struggled to come to terms with Greenwood as lucidity began to filter on through the layers of clumsy thoughts. Something wasn't quite right. Something was... missing. Gone. In his mind, there was a sort of blank spot.

He put a hand to his head as he slid sideways again, but thankfully the man who took him in held him upright. Alva looked down at him. He wasn't a familiar face but it was nevertheless a nice face. A concerned face and a kind face, though there wasn't a smile on his lips. It was in the eyes, really. Alva felt instinctively that he could trust this man.

"My name is... Alva. Ren. I live... oh my head..." He let his head fall into his hand momentarily. That aching dark spot just behind his ear... the hollowness where another consciousness resided... There used to be something there. Alva frowned down at the man's concerned face. "I... I live... in the suburbs. House. My house... I..." He tried hard to recall his address but nothing came to him. It was too hard to grasp onto the fine details. The street, the house number... He only knew that he lived in the suburbs.

"I'm sorry, I can't... remember."