rory / call on me

[AUTUMN PARKER DAWSON]

shes a killer queen.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; background-color:#af9ea8; padding:0px;] she had been partying her night away, and it was about time that she passed out. but autumn dawson had more on her mind then passing out. as she sat on the small stained blue and white striped couch in the living area of the motel room her friend was renting for the night, she looked around. the room was spinning and it smelled like multiple amounts of alcohol and substances that shouldnt be there. she looked over at a girl dancing with another guy and her mind went black. the room was dark and she was passing out. a few minutes later she regained conciousness and was laying on the floor in the bathroom, covered in sweat and what she thought was tears. she managed to push herself off the ground and look in the mirror. her hair was now in a high bun on the top of her head and her makeup was running down her face, she was crying. wiping her eyes slowly the makeup smeared all along the side of her cheek. what the hell happened. who the hell did she piss off? judging by the bruise on her right arm, she had been punched pretty hard. touching it she winced in pain. she needed to go home, this party was getting to out of hand for her. she heard a shatter in the other room and a yell from a couple of guys. she heard a thud and they laughed calling one of them a few derogatory names, assuming they had just beat the living shit out of him, autumn felt her blood rushing. she was teriffied. who would come get her at what, four am in the morning from a seedy motel in the middle of miami strip. she didnt know, but she had to try. first she called erica, she was drunk at her own party and about to screw some guy. she called a few other friends, she was trying her hardest not to call donnie. she texted him but he answered with a 'im busy' so she had to revert to her last and final option. rory. she knew he'd be pissed, but she needed help, and she needed to get out of there. picking up her phone it rang and went to voicemail. she left one. rory, i know its late and im sorry. but im really scared and, i am at a hotel called the dark peanut. i need to come home, please. she hung up and her voice as well as her whole body was shaking. she put her phone down next to the toilet and sat inbetween the two on the ground, her knees pulled to her chest. she felt more tears streaming down her face. she was confused, scared and pretty sure she had been drugged. (hellz yeah my muse is on FIRE today!) WEARING

CREDIT TO JENNERS

[RORY FIONN BRENNAN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] and i'd expect this much from you mary the station is playing every sad song i remember like we were alive and i heard sunday morn from inside of these walls in this prison cell where we spent those nights and they burned up the diner where i always used to find her licking young boy's blood from her claws and i learned about the blues from this kitten i knew her hair was raven and her heart like a tomb - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - my heart's like a wound Rory woke with a start. Somewhere in the dimness of his bedroom, his phone was ringing. Loud enough to jerk him awake, but not loud enough to be so irritating he had to get out of bed to investigate. He muttered profanity into his pillow, then turned his head to the side to eye the clock on his bedside table. It was two minutes past four in the morning. He had to get up and go to work in two hours. He had to be awake and functioning in two hours. He had to go back to sleep. For a minute or two maybe, he did. But then he woke again, stirred from sleep by a vaguely disturbing thought. Who phoned someone at four in the morning? Really, truly? It wasn’t the sort of thing normal people did unless there was some kind of an emergency. Some kind of an emergency. He replayed the phrase in his mind until he found the motivation to get up and at least go and check. He got up. Yawning. Stumbling. He knocked one shoulder hard against the chest of drawers and bounced backwards with an irritated grunt. Finally his groping hand located his phone, sitting innocuously on the shelf on the other side of the room. He jabbed at a random key and the backlight came on, blinding him. He recoiled from the shaft of blue light like it was burning him, then stayed that way for several seconds – the phone held at arms length, glowing, his face turned away with eyes screwed shut. Slowly he recovered his wits enough to look the phone head on. One voicemail message. From Autumn. He dialled, waited. “Rory. I know it’s late and I’m sorry. But I’m really scared and, I am at a hotel called the dark peanut. I need to come home, please.” That was all. Rory allowed his eyes to close in frustration. He stood still, silent phone still pressed to his ear, having a brief internal debate with himself. It’s four in the morning. She’s an idiot who got herself into whatever mess she’s in. You owe her nothing. Someone else will go and find her and save the day. She’ll call someone else. On the other hand, you’re a complete asshole if you don’t go. He sighed. Dashed off a quick text in response: Stay where you are. On my way. Things moved quickly for him then, but uncertainly. A series of events occurring around him in a groggy haze. No time to get dressed properly – four in the morning, no one would care if he left the house in pyjama bottoms and a hoodie – fumbling, looking for his car keys – remembering he didn’t own a car anymore – shoes, no bloody shoes, all the shoes in the house were Autumn’s – outside – taking the quiet residential streets at a brisk jog, the air cool, the night silent – the strip up ahead, looming into view, noisy and bright even at this time of night – He didn’t even know if the dark peanut was on the strip. He thought it was though. It seemed the likely place. And she’d said something about a party on the strip when she’d left last night, so maybe, hopefully… He saw it. A name like ‘the dark peanut’ was pretty distinctive. He stepped inside the lobby. The air in here was stale and hot. He approached the receptionist, zipping his hoodie up to his chin self-consciously. He supposed it would have been too convenient if Autumn had given him a room number or anything… “Scuse me. I’m looking for a girl. She’s in here somewhere, I don’t know where. Name’s Autumn. About yay high, dark hair, blue eyes, drop dead gorgeous. You seen her?” The receptionist proceeded to give him some kind of bullshit about privacy. “This is a motel. It’s not the sodding Ritz. Look, please. I think she’s in some kind of trouble. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.” Something about a haggard semi-dressed man shouting at her in four in the morning must have moved her to empathy, because the receptionist got up from behind the desk. Lead him down the hall, past a series of doors coated in peeling paint. He noted they were approaching the door from which the loudest noises were emanating – howls, screams, shouted abuse. Rory tried not to allow him to think of whatever crazy situation she’d found herself in now. The receptionist opened the door for him with her highly useful little staff key, and Rory stepped blindly into the dingy little room. It smelt of alcohol, vomit, sweat. There seemed to be a large amount of violently drunk people inside it. Only about half of them seemed aware enough to notice he’d just walked in, but those that did look, he ignored. He scanned the room, looking for Autumn. Didn’t see her. “Autumn? You here? It’s me. It’s Rory.” He called into the stinking dimness. ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[AUTUMN PARKER DAWSON]

shes a killer queen.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; background-color:#af9ea8; padding:0px;] she laid there, silently sobbing to herself. she wanted to get up and sprint out of there as fast as she could. but unsure of how she got her bruise she felt it was best to just sit it out till morning. she leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. suddnely the bathroom door knob started to jiggle and someone was coming in. scared and unsure, she slid herself into the bathtub, cringing the whole way in. her phone was in her hand as she sat silently on the base of the tub. it was truely and honestly disgusting. there was mold seeping from the corners and she was sure there was some sort of creature growing where the soap should be. she heard someone stumble into the cabinet and curse at it, as if it was its fault. she waited silently, scared that if she revealed herself in any way shed get hit or yelled at for being a spy. she listened as the gentleman began to pee. she made several disguted faces, from the tub to the sound of him peeing. she was so scared, that her knees were hitting one another as she crouched in the blue tub. realizing that rory had never called or texted her she knew that she was going to spend the night here, and that terrified her even more. maybe she'd walk home? or get a taxi? no she didnt have that money, and she was not prostituting herself. her silent thoughts were disrupted by the loud buzzing and beeping of her phone telling her she recieved a text message. oh shit she managed to mumble under her breath silencing the phone suddenly. the gentleman using the restroom stood silent and she could see his shadow staring at the tub. she was screwed, so utterly and truethfuly screwed, she watched as his hand reached for the curtain but was stopped by the door flinging open and a drunken female calling him to the bedroom. she let out a long relieved breath. thank god. crawling out of the tub she slammed the bathroom door shut just in time, locking it as someoen banged into it cursing at her to hurry the hell up, they were going to pee themselves. she sat silently re-reading her text over and over again. he was actually coming to get her. knowing he had to be up in two hours, autumn suddenly felt horrendously guilty for calling him. she wanted to scream, beat the shit out of herself and just cry all at once. but she didnt she just stood there. it grew somewhat quiet in the motel room and she managed to hear her own name. a familiar voice was calling it. scrambling up to the door she swung it open and reached out, grabbing him by the neck of his sweatshirt and pulling him into the bathroom. she fell backwards, landing in the tub again. looking up at him she smiled with a guilty look on her face hey ror she was waiting from him to yell at her, all in all she knew she deserved every inch of scold she got from him. but instead of waiting she pushed herself out of the tub and drunkenly fell into him, hugging him tightly. im sorry i didnt know who else to call. no one was answering, dont be mad at me please. im sorry im sorry. ill call your boss and tell him youll be late. dont kill me. she managed to get that out in one breath. letting go of him she looked at him. she was drunk, and just wanted to go home. but seeing him there sent emtoions all through her brain. maybe it was time she got over donnie. no. rory was her roommate and strictly that. WEARING

CREDIT TO JENNERS

[RORY FIONN BRENNAN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] and i'd expect this much from you mary the station is playing every sad song i remember like we were alive and i heard sunday morn from inside of these walls in this prison cell where we spent those nights and they burned up the diner where i always used to find her licking young boy's blood from her claws and i learned about the blues from this kitten i knew her hair was raven and her heart like a tomb - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - my heart's like a wound Time seemed to be moving very slowly all of a sudden. There was Rory standing in the doorway, and there was a room full of drunk, angry strangers, staring at him like he had an extra head sprouting from his shoulder. He did another quick precursory sweep of the room, but he didn’t see Autumn. Just unfriendly eyes. “Who the fuck are you –?” A voice began to demand, and so he supposed it was very lucky that at this exact moment the bathroom door swung open and a hand yanked him inside. For a brief second, the pressure of the collar of his sweatshirt tightening around his neck made him positive that all these alarming drunks were going to lynch him, but he came to his senses quickly, recognising Autumn right in front of him, falling back into a truly disgusting bath tub with the kind of force that might have made a sober person flinch. He shut the door to the bathroom behind him quickly and drew the lock across so hard it rattled. He wasn’t entirely sure what to do now. Rory wasn’t built or programmed for situations like this. He wasn’t meant to find himself in grotty motel bathrooms at four in the morning with possibly violent people outside the door and his roommate grinning guiltily up at him from a bath tub. This wasn’t his life. This wasn’t what his life was like. At least it hadn’t been, until Autumn. “Hey Ror.” She said, and he nodded, but that was all he could think to do, and then suddenly she was clambering out of the bath tub and into him, hugging onto him so tightly that it hurt a little. So close, he could smell the alcohol on her breath. Instinctively – though perhaps it wasn’t entirely appropriate – he hugged her back, pressing her close, relieved to find her in one piece. For a moment there he’d been genuinely worried about her. Getting that panicked message, and not being able to find her in that roach-infested room of drunks, and… well, who knows what could have happened to her? She was talking, but very fast, and he couldn’t catch all the words. He heard ‘sorry’ a lot though. “Oh shut up.” He said, but his voice was gentle. He’d be angry with her for this whole thing later. They’d have words later, when she was sober and somewhere safe – and boy would they be having words about this – but right now it would have been wrong for him to scold her. It would have been wrong to do anything but make sure she was all right and get her home. She let go of him, stepping back, and Rory clasped his hands briefly, then let them go again… awkward, unsure where to put them now. Felt weird, hugging Autumn. Felt weirder, now he wasn’t. “Are you okay? What happened? How much have you drunk? Did you take anything? Did any of those people hurt you?” He asked in a level voice. They were all important enough questions, he felt. He supposed they could wait, but he found himself surprisingly willing to stall for time before he had to venture back out into that room. ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[AUTUMN PARKER DAWSON]

shes a killer queen.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; background-color:#af9ea8; padding:0px;] she was waiting for it. waiting for the screaming to start. waiting for him to hit her, yell at her, make her drunkenly cry. but no. she didnt get any of that. now standing across and staring at him and he staring at her she got bombarded with fifty questions. sober her wouldve given him a sarcastic answer to every single question but drunk her just wanted to get the hell out of there. she felt herself sigh, letting her eyes close she opened them and crossed her arms pouting like a child. she was going to answer his questions, then she was going to get them out of there. she looked at him and started to answer in a level voice as well. one. yes im drunk but ok. two. pretty sure i got drugged, dont freak out im ok i think. three. only three beers and a few shots. four. yes, a small white pill. she paused and grinned, how fucking stupid was she? five. i dont think so, but i have this bruise she pointed to her arm which was now turning a shade of black and blue. it hurt to touch and hurt to look at but she probably desreved it. next step was to get them out of here. can we please just go hom? she looked up at him and waited. too late. she was tired of waiting, she was having an aanxiety attack and needed out. grabbing his arm she stormed out of the bathroom, head down making a beeline for the door. she felt a few people grab at her and one person ripped hre skirt. next thing she knew they were both standing outside the door in the cool mist of the florida night. she looked at him and at her skirt. its fine its fine she was breathing calming herself down before she had a major panic attack. she looked at him and closed her eyes feeling that ugly crying face come on. rory im sorry she felt a few tears slip out and she stood there. miserable and mortified of what she was putting him through. (sorry for the shit post, i gotta go to work D:) WEARING

CREDIT TO JENNERS

[RORY FIONN BRENNAN]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, border-radius: 2em; -moz-border-radius: 2em; background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/14e9a45.jpg), width: 400px; height: 400px;] and i'd expect this much from you mary the station is playing every sad song i remember like we were alive and i heard sunday morn from inside of these walls in this prison cell where we spent those nights and they burned up the diner where i always used to find her licking young boy's blood from her claws and i learned about the blues from this kitten i knew her hair was raven and her heart like a tomb - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - my heart's like a wound In all honesty, he was pretty surprised that she actually answered his questions. Honestly, genuinely, without the barest hint of sarcasm. Sure, she was grinning like a maniac the whole time, but that probably had more to do with all the substances she’d ingested. The first tiny hint of indignant rage pierced Rory’s weariness. She’d been drugged? She had a bruise? What the hell kind of person drugs and hits a woman? He couldn’t fathom… It was four in the morning and he couldn’t understand what was happening, or why, or what kind of people did this kind of thing to each other… He just wanted to go home, crawl back into bed and wake up back in his old life, with Livvy next to him and Autumn a stranger he wouldn’t have glanced twice at if they’d passed each other in the street… He was quite glad when she decided it was time to go, but not so much when she just grabbed his arm and dragged him. He wasn’t prepared to go through that bathroom door yet, but… A confused few moments. Shouts, a fumble of limbs, a ripping sound, Autumn’s hand clenched to the point of pain around his arm. He followed after her blindly, feeling equal parts relieved and panicked that she was in control of the situation. What did it say about his capacity to handle emergencies if the drunk girl was in charge? They were outside. The air cool. He could see the first slither of dawn peeking on the horizon, and thought banally that they had to go home soon because he needed to get ready for work. Why was he thinking about work? Autumn was right in front of him, clearly having trouble trying to get a grip on herself, crying, and he was thinking about work? Tiredness did weird things to his head. “Don’t cry. We’re all right.” He said calmly. He half-lifted a hand as if he were going to do something with it – pat her on the shoulder or something – then thought better of it. His eyes fell, drifting to the rip on her skirt, and noting with some relief that this was a problem he might be able to do something about. He couldn’t stop her crying, or take away that ugly bruise on her arm, or magically transport them home and away from this shitty place, but ripped skirts? No problem. He shrugged off his sweatshirt and ducked down a little to tie it loosely around her waist, hiding the split. Things were bad enough without her flashing her panties all the way home. “Tell me you’re sorry later.” He added after a moment. It was misty out here, the air damp. He found himself cold now, his bare arms exposed. He’d never thought he’d be cold in Florida. “Let’s get you home now, aye? Sleep it off, then I’ll yell at you and you can tell me how sorry you are. Sound like a plan, Lovely?” He started walking, glancing once briefly over his shoulder to make sure that she was following. ♥ ♥ ♥ template by hay shay ! @ caution 2.0 LYRICS BY THE GASLIGHT ANTHEM

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[AUTUMN PARKER DAWSON]

shes a killer queen.

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 350px; background-color:#af9ea8; padding:0px;] things inside were escalating way to quickly for autumns liking, and she knew that it was getting late. well early in this case, and rory had work in what, three hours? two hours? hell she didnt even know the date or what time it was. for certain she had been drugged she knew that tomorrow he was going to have a field day. and she was going to be hungover, miserable and cranky. but hey, there was hope he'd just let it go. you can tell me how sorry you are tomorrow not. she groaned and grabbed at her face. she was so stupid. so mother effing stupid. how could she just take some pill. some drink, and go on her merry way? she knew what she was getting into, so in her mind, she deserved it all. she couldnt stop crying however. and when he tried to calm her down she didnt say a word. why she was crying? it wasnt a matter of the fact she was scared, or confused. it was, why the hell was she this way? why was her life so bad that she took drugs and drank to the point of this? why did she let herself do these things? there was other things she could do with her life, but she chose to get drunk almost every night. she felt terrible. and now she had brough rory into her miserable life and thats what made her upset. she knew that he didnt want to hear her apologize so she shrugged, quickly wiping her eyes. im fine she looked down at her feet, soaked with water and her skirt, ripped and exposing every inch of skin on her upper thigh. good thing she was at least wearing underwear tonight. that made her chuckle slightly. she closed her eyes as the breeze picked up and hit her face. it sent chills up her spine as it hit her leg. but those chills were subdued when she felt a warm soft substance around her. it was his sweatshirt. she looked up at him quickly. no. no rory i cant, ive put you through too much, its too cold for that she took it off and stepped forward wrapping it around him. im ok, i promise she left her hand rested on his shoulder. it actually felt like it belonged there. but she felt herself going pink in the face so she withdrew and placed her hand at her side. he mentioned going home nad she nodded, actually excited. yes, please. i need to take a hot shower and go to bed. her bed sounded lovely right now. granted hse was probably gonna pass out on the couch, anywhere but that cold bathroom motel floor sounded good. WEARING

CREDIT TO JENNERS