Pale green eyes flickered to the clock at the bottom right hand side of the screen. 2:03 am. His lips tightened slightly and he leaned back, securing his headphones. His fingers drummed on the heated edge of his laptop in counterpoint to the bass. It'd been hours since his last cigarette and the need for nicotine had his nerves frayed raw.
Lee was late. Not that it had anything to do with anything, much less why Gaara was restless or why he hadn't just stepped outside into the chill desert air to look out over the city and blow smoke-clouds into the air. Gaara wasn't waiting for him. It wasn't like they had plans to meet or he actually wanted to talk to him. Lee just happened to sign online at the same time every night, and Gaara didn't like the interruption in the routine. That was all.
The flicker of something approaching relief he felt at the familiar chime only made it worse. He double-clicked on the name and saw that Lee was typing, but it always took time for his messages to come through.
You're late.
Lee looked at the message on his screen and winced. He straightened his shoulders and resumed typing, doing his best to ignore the sharp throbbing at the base of his spine. He hoped the latest dose of pain medication would kick in soon. He'd debated whether he should come online tonight at all-it was difficult to concentrate through the pain, and when it got like this, he could never tell if he was making any sense-but there was nothing he hated more than just lying around in bed. And even if Gaara never said it outright, Lee had a feeling that the other teen-like himself-had come to expect and rely on these nightly chats.
I am sorry, Gaara. I was not feeling my best earlier, but I am fine now. I hope you were not waiting too long. How are you?
Gaara snorted, staring at the message. The apology was expected, though still something he felt odd about. Lee was always polite, even though he knew Gaara wouldn't return it. It was one of the things that bothered him about Lee. Or interested him about Lee. By this point, he wasn't certain which.
I wasn't waiting.
A tiny smile tugged at the corners of Lee's mouth. Of course, he thought. Gaara would never actually admit that he'd been waiting for Lee to show up.
I see. He paused, staring at the screen. For the past few nights he'd been intending to bring this up, but somehow, he kept losing his nerve. Lee took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. If Gai knew he'd been waffling over such a small issue, he'd say something about seizing the moment and the importance of youthful boldness. He was going to say something about it tonight, he resolved.
We've been talking for almost six months now, haven't we?
I haven't been counting.
It was a lie, of course, and they both knew it. Gaara could've told him that it'd been a few days more than six months, but he'd known Lee long enough by now to know that he didn't forget dates. He'd talked about his foster father's birthday and his friends and so many other small details that it made Gaara wonder how it was possible for someone to actually care that much about people. Which meant that Lee was asking for a reason. It wasn't like him to edge around a statement, and that made curiosity flicker.
Gaara leaned back, staring at the screen for a minute. Why?
Lee took a deep breath and resumed typing.
I wondered if you would like to meet sometime. In person, I mean. When Gaara didn't respond immediately, he sent another message: We are not really that far away from each other. It would only be a few hours' drive. I am sure I could find a way to come down there.
It wasn't as if Lee didn't have enough free time. These days, it seemed all he did was sit around the house and occasionally go to physical therapy. When Gaara still didn't respond, he sent another message:
It might be fun to talk to each other face to face. But I do not want to pressure you. If you would rather not, I understand.
It might be fun. Dark-ringed eyes focused on the words, reading over them again, then Gaara deliberately took his headphones off. He set them down on the bed and shifted the laptop over onto the blankets.
I'm going to go grab a smoke.
The alert immediately came up about Lee typing, but Gaara ignored it. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off of his nightstand and headed out the door. Smoking outside was one of the few concessions for peace he made with his siblings, simply because it was easier than listening to Temari gripe. The desert air was cold, and if he'd had more care he would've stopped to pull on a coat, but Gaara let it bite at his bare arms and face. He flicked the lighter, drawing in a deep drag through the filter, and let the smoke go in a rush. The tobacco was familiarly bitter on his tongue, and the tingle of nicotine soothed his nerves.
Six months. It'd started at the prompting of his therapist, who insisted that Gaara needed some kind of human contact. Apparently living with his siblings wasn't enough interaction, given that he went out of his way to avoid them, and they returned the favor. She'd suggested the internet as a foil to Gaara's antisocial nature and paranoia. He'd be completely in control of the situation. At times like that, he thought she might actually understand something about him. Then she'd start rambling on about feelings, and he'd be forced to revise his opinion of her.
He'd taken to haunting chatrooms at night. After the first week, he'd been more than ready to give up. People on the internet, he'd decided, were idiots. Even moreso than people in real life.
Then he'd met Lee. It'd been pure chance- they'd been the only ones left in a chatroom at five in the morning. Lee had politely asked if he had trouble sleeping. Gaara had given his usual sarcastic reply, and things had progressed from there. The other teen was annoyingly upbeat and optimistic. After three nights of chatting with him, Gaara had been ready to block him and call the experiment off.
Then he'd found out about the crash, and his view of Lee had changed.
Drunk driver. That's what Lee had told him. He'd been sixteen, and had been blindsided. His left arm and leg were completely shattered, and bone fragments near his spine meant he spent every day in blinding pain. That he managed to walk at all was through pure force of will.
Lee had been careful to not phrase it that way. He'd shown no resentment about the injury, but the details along with Lee's name and that he lived in Konoha had been enough for Gaara. Wary of trusting someone over the internet, he'd looked up news articles online.
Beloved soccer star crippled. Driver walks away unscratched.
After that, Lee's optimism had been a little harder to dismiss. Gaara's late nights were due to insomnia. Lee's were because the pain made it nearly impossible for him to sleep. Gaara was vaguely aware that his cigarette had dwindled down to little more than the filter, but he couldn't remember smoking it.
Lee wanted to meet. Gaara dropped the butt over the balcony railing and stepped back inside.
No. He gave the message time to sink in, watching as Lee started and stopped typing three different times, then sighed. . Download it. I'll talk to you there, but meeting isn't going to happen.
Lee stared at the screen. He'd been prepared for the possibility that Gaara would say no. He was without a doubt one of the most guarded people Lee had ever met. Indeed, it sometimes surprised him that Gaara still wanted to talk to him at all. Still, his chest ached dully with disappointment. Though Gaara revealed very little about himself, Lee had grown increasingly certain of one thing: Gaara needed a friend, whether or not he realized it. It was that need, more than anything, that drew Lee to him.
Then his gaze focused on the newest message. ? He typed it into his browser's address bar and brought up the site-some sort of software for making voice calls, and for video-conferencing, it looked like.
Okay, he typed, I will. Just a moment. As the program began downloading, he leaned back in his chair-wincing as another lightning bolt of pain ripped down his spine-and chewed his lower lip. He'd never heard Gaara's voice before. He wondered what it would sound like. His heartbeat quickened.
My username is the same as here. Sandsworn. Call me when you get it installed. Gaara tugged his headphones back on, anchoring the noise-cancelling foam in place. He absently noted that it was halfway through the album, and flipped Winamp up long enough to stop it playing. Gaara let out a half-breath that was as close as he got to a sigh and tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling.
He wondered why Lee wanted to meet. He had enough friends in his day-to-day life, even if he carefully tried to cover up how things were different now. What they had here was enough. He could turn it off, if he wanted to. He could close his laptop, or walk away. He could change his screennames and disappear, and Lee would never be able to find him. It made it safe. Meeting wasn't safe.
Lee had never been very proficient with technology. It took some fiddling around to get everything set up. At last, he put on a pair of headphones, adjusted the mike once again, and brought up the program. Chewing his lower lip, he scrolled through the list of names and found Gaara's. He paused, one hand on the mouse, the arrow hovering over his name...then clicked on it. He cleared his throat softly. "Hello? Gaara?"
"Mm." It wasn't what Gaara had expected. Lee's voice was cleaner and lighter than he'd thought it'd be, but somehow, it fit him. He sounded uncertain, but that wasn't unexpected. "Yeah. That's me." There was a touch of amusement to his usual monotone. He let his eyes slip closed and leaned back against the headboard.
His voice was deeper than Lee had expected. It vibrated pleasantly in his eardrums and sent a shiver rippling down his spine. His tongue crept out to moisten his lips, and he tried to think of something to say, but his mind had gone blank. "This is Lee." He winced as the words left his mouth. Gaara already knew it was him, of course. "I have never used something like this before. I hope I am doing it right. Is my volume okay? I mean, do I have it turned up too loud or anything?"
Gaara's lips twitched upward slightly. Suddenly, Lee's habit of stopping in the middle of typing and restarting made sense. He'd thought that the slow responses were only because of his difficulty using his right hand, but apparently Lee was one of those people who fumbled for words when nervous. "You're fine. I can turn it down on my end if needed."
He shifted the laptop over onto the bed, edging the screen almost entirely closed so that the light wouldn't tinge his eyelids red. "So why were you late?"
"Oh...it was nothing, really." Lee paused. He didn't like talking about his injuries-he spent too much time thinking about them as it was-but he supposed he owed Gaara an explanation. "My back was bothering me. For awhile, I could not sit up or move very well. But I took some pain medication, so it is fine now." Well, fine was an exaggeration. "Tolerable" was more like it; the pills took the edge off, so it no longer felt as if shards of hot glass were digging into his spine whenever he moved. But the pain never really went away.
"Hn. Were you overdoing it again?" He'd grown used to Lee's protests about Youth and energy and refusing to let his body get the better of him. From what he knew of the extent of the other teen's injuries, it was pure foolishness. Determination wouldn't make shattered limbs recover, and Lee's 'training' attempts damaged him more often than they helped. "You spent two weeks in the hospital the last time you tried that."
Lee's shoulders tensed. "I cannot just sit around here and expect to recover," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "If I do not push my body, I will never get stronger. I can beat this if I work hard enough. Gai says so too."
"Gai isn't a doctor." Gaara's tone was dry. "If you hurt yourself it will only take longer to heal." He wondered briefly why he cared if Lee hurt himself or not, but dismissed the thought. "They've already told you what you can and can't do. If you push beyond that, it's no wonder you're in pain."
"Doctors are not always right." Lee had to believe that. Otherwise, he wouldn't be able to go on getting out of bed each day. "They tell me that I will never regain the full use of my limbs, that I won't ever play again. But I am going to prove them wrong. I am going to find some way to get better. I will." His voice trembled slightly. He drew in a slow breath, struggling to regain control. "I just have to keep trying."
"Trying won't do any good if you hurt yourself in the process." In contrast to Lee's impassioned tones, Gaara's voice was a calm, flat monotone. He could hear the pain in Lee's voice. Not just the physical pain, which thickened his voice and made it slightly hoarse, but the emotional pain as well.
It was disturbing. He wondered if this had been going too far. It'd been easier to pretend that Lee wasn't real when there hadn't been a voice, but hearing him speak brought the pictures in the paper back into his mind. Not the twisted steel, but Lee's smile, bright and happy after a game, before he'd known anything about what would happen to him. It made him uneasy.
"You do not understand. I have to keep trying. I do not know how else to live." Tears stung Lee's eyes, and he blinked them away. This was why he didn't like to bring up his injury; the pain was always close to the surface, and talking about it was like digging his fingers into an open wound. "If I do not keep trying then I will just...stop, and I won't be able to start again."
Gaara's eyes opened, and he stared into the darkness, letting the words sink in. "You shouldn't talk about it that way. You don't stop. How many times have you told me that you won't give up?" The words would've sounded encouraging from someone else, but Gaara delivered them flat and cold, with a flicker of annoyance underneath the surface.
Lee closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't blame Gaara for being irritated with him. "Of course," he said quietly, holding his voice steady as best he could. "You are right. I am sorry, I do not mean to complain so much." He shouldn't have brought this up at all. He resolved not to do so again. Talking about it didn't help anything. He settled back in his chair, taking slow, steady breaths. The muscles in his back had tightened, making the pain flare up again. "Why do you not want to meet in person?"
The irritation flared further. "Stop apologizing. You weren't complaining." Gaara's voice was harsh, and he let out a breath in a half-sigh, allowing the change in topic. He thought the question over for a moment, trying to decide how much of his reluctance he should explain. If they'd talked for a shorter period of time, or if Lee hadn't just apologized for being honest with him as if it were a mistake, he'd have brushed it off, but something about the plaintive note in Lee's voice stopped him.
"There's no point to it. You don't live here. I don't live there. We can talk here, but anything else won't be real. And I don't like people. You know that."
"Won't be real?" Lee repeated, confusion creeping into his voice. "I do not understand. Even if we do not live in the same state, we can still visit each other. We can still be friends."
It wasn't the first time Lee had used that word to describe them. If it were, it would've been harder to face, but even with that buffer… "Why do you call me that?"
"What? Friend?" Lee blinked, and his brow furrowed. "That is what we are, is it not? We talk to each other almost every night."
Gaara's expression shuttered over, and his hands tightened into loose fists. His breathing fluctuated momentarily, then he forced it under control. Lee didn't know what he was saying. When he spoke his voice was carefully modulated and controlled, as dry as the desert air, without a hint of the distress he felt. "And that is all it takes for you to call someone a friend."
"Well...it is more than that." Lee paused. Though Gaara's tone was calm, he'd noticed the hitch in his breathing. "We share our thoughts with each other. We understand each other...at least a little. And I like talking to you. Is that not reason enough to call someone a friend?"
Gaara ignored the question, instead focusing on what Lee had said. Except for the use of that word, all of it was true. They did share their thoughts. He still wasn't certain why, but it was better than staring at the walls waiting for morning to come, and he noticed when Lee wasn't there. It itched underneath his skin, the same feeling he got when sitting through class on the days he went, waiting to get out and take that first drag and let the nicotine flow through his body. He wondered if that meant he was addicted to Lee, and why that thought wasn't as alarming as it should be. "What does being a friend mean? That is what it takes for you to call someone a friend, but what does it mean?"
Lee hesitated. Such a simple concept, friendship. A thing that most people took for granted. Yet finding the words to explain it was surprisingly difficult. "It means...just being there for someone when they need it. Having a bond with that person. Sharing things. It means that that person means something to you...that you would miss them if they disappeared."
"You would miss me." There was a touch of fascination to Gaara's voice as he slowly repeated the words. It was an interesting feeling. Part of him wanted to deny them, but he knew that Lee was truthful to a fault. "I mean something to you, and you would miss me."
"Yes," Lee said. "I would. Do you..." He fell silent. He wanted to ask Gaara if he felt the same way about him, but the cautious tone in Gaara's voice made him uncertain. Something about the concept of friendship seemed to affect Gaara strongly; Lee didn't want to push him too hard, for fear that he'd pull away or shut down again.
"Do I view you as a friend?" It was easy enough to guess what Lee had been asking, but then, even with the safety of a screen between them and the ability to backspace, he was easy to read. "I talk to you. I share what I am thinking, when I would not with others. I understand you, but at the same time, I understand nothing about you." He paused, staring into the darkness. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and stark. "I would miss you, if you were gone. By your definition, that means you are my friend."
Lee drew in his breath sharply, and his heartbeat quickened. The pain in his back had receded to a small corner of his awareness; the rest of it was focused on the sound of Gaara's voice, and those words. From anyone else, a declaration of friendship might not have seemed like such a big deal, but Gaara never talked about his feelings. For him to state that he saw Lee as a friend...
"Thank you," he said quietly.
Gaara was silent, but his breath quickened slightly. The faint change in pattern was picked up by the over-sensitive microphone, and there was a scraping noise as it was brushed against. His right hand kneaded his chest against sudden, tight pain. It was a feeling that he hadn't experienced in years. That single word kept echoing in his mind. Friend. Lee viewed him as a friend. Lee wanted Gaara to view him in the same way. He was grateful that, by his definition, Gaara did.
"I need to go." The words were sudden, harsh, but Gaara made no move to pull the headset off.
Lee's teeth pressed into his lower lip. He'd noticed the change in Gaara's breathing. "What is it, Gaara?" he asked. "Are you all right? Did I...did I say something I shouldn't have?"
Gaara's fingers twisted in the thin fabric of his shirt, pulling down on it as he struggled to breathe. Stay calm. He needed to stay calm. "You shouldn't call me that."
"You mean...friend?" Lee asked. A pang of confusion lanced through him. Did Gaara just not want him as a friend? But if that was the case why would he have spent so many nights talking to Lee? And anyway, Gaara had just said that they were friends...hadn't he? "Why don't you want me to call you that?"
Gaara didn't respond right away. Lee noticed that his breathing had grown ragged and strained. Alarmed, he sat up straighter, ignoring the flare of pain in his spine. "Gaara, what's wrong? You sound like you're having trouble breathing."
"You need to not call me that," Gaara repeated. His normal monotone cracked, shading into something dark and ugly and stark. "I'm not. I don't have friends. I'm not your friend. You need to not call me that. Everything will be fine if you don't call me that."
This had been a mistake. Too close, Lee was just too close, wrapped around him, until there was nothing but the sound of Lee's voice scraping like sandpaper over raw nerves.
Lee gulped, uncertain. Gaara was his friend. It felt wrong to deny it. But that voice, brittle and cracking, and that pained breathing...whatever was hurting Gaara right now, he didn't want to make it worse. "All right," he said, his voice low and gentle. "If...if you don't want me to, then I won't say that word. Just relax. All right?"
Gaara nodded at the prompting of that voice. Calm. He needed to stay calm. It took a minute to realize that Lee couldn't see him, and his tongue flicked out to dampen his lips. "Okay." His voice was hoarse as he forced the single word out, and his grip on his shirt loosened.
Lee relaxed a little and let out a soft sigh. He wondered what it was about the concept of friendship that scared Gaara so much. Seconds of silence stretched out into an eternity as his mind groped for another conversation topic-a safer topic. "Gai and I had cheeseburger casserole for dinner tonight," he blurted out...and winced. It was about the silliest thing he could have said, under the circumstances.
For a moment, Gaara couldn't believe he'd actually heard those words- then, slowly, the tension coiled in his chest eased at the sheer absurdity of it. He shook his head. "Was it as bad as his cooking usually is?" he asked, and was relieved to find that his voice almost sounded normal.
"It was not actually that bad. It was just hamburger mushed up with bread and cheese in a casserole pan. With ketchup on top. Though I guess after that taco surprise from last night, anything would taste good." It always made him feel a little guilty, complaining about Gai's cooking. Gai had done so much for him-had practically adopted him, even if they couldn't make it official. It seemed wrong to say anything bad about him. But that taco surprise really had been horrible.
"I don't know how he can mess up food that badly. Even Temari manages to cook." Not that she particularly liked it, but her stubborn insistence that they should at least pretend to be something resembling a family drove her to cook dinner every other night and demand that he and Kankuro eat with her.
"He can even mess up instant food. It is kind of amazing." A tiny smile curved Lee's lips. "Gai is a wonderful person, but I do not think he should ever go near a kitchen." He paused, recalling the mention of Gaara's sister. "What is she like? Temari, I mean. And your brother too. You have never said much about them."
Gaara pulled one knee up against his chest, loosely wrapping his arms around it. "She's Temari," he finally answered. "Fussy. A mother-hen, with a temper. Kankuro spends most of his time at the theater." He only had the vaguest idea of what his brother's passion in life entailed- only that it involved a lot of time on stage and wearing makeup.
"I see." Lee paused. "I do not think I have any siblings. Or if I do, I never found them." He'd been abandoned as a small child; he remembered nothing about his family at all. "Sometimes I like to imagine that I have a brother or a sister somewhere, and that someday, we will meet each other. But even if that never happens, I will be all right. I have Gai now. He is my family."
"Sharing blood with someone doesn't make them family." The words came automatically, and Gaara paused as soon as they left his lips. Knowing that Lee would likely press, he looked away. It was easier to talk the other way, when every word could carefully be controlled. But for all of that, there was something about actually hearing Lee's voice. He couldn't put words to it, or maybe he just didn't want to, but it was enough to keep him from pulling his headset off.
"Maybe not. It helps, I think...to have that connection with someone. But I have always thought the truest bonds were formed through hearts, not blood. I mean, Gai is more a father to me than my biological father. Whoever he was." He paused, listening. Already, he'd discovered that Gaara's breathing was a good indicator of his emotional state, even more than his tone of voice. Now, his breaths were steady and even, but there was a strained quality to them. Was family a sensitive issue for him too, then? Gaara never really said much about his parents, either.
Gaara didn't answer, instead fiddling with the cord to his headphones and staring at his mostly-closed laptop. He knew that Lee cared about Gai, but the idea of a bond like that was still foreign to him. Thinking about it made him feel confused and oddly angry. He wanted to tell Lee to be careful, that Gai couldn't be trusted, but it'd only start an argument. He'd seen before exactly how protective Lee was of his foster father. "Be glad you have him," he said eventually.
"I am. I am very grateful. If not for him I would probably still be bouncing around between foster homes." Lee stopped himself before he could say anymore about that. He remembered the pain of that all too well-finally starting to settle in, to feel like he had a home, only to be uprooted and thrust into the unknown once again-but brooding over the past did no good. He had a wonderful home now. In that, he was more fortunate than many. "I wish you could meet him," Lee said on impulse.
"Hn." It was noncommittal, but Lee's statement was a reminder of his request to meet, and that made Gaara uncomfortable. This entire conversation did. It was too intimate, too close, too hard to hide. His eyes slipped closed and he focused on the steady rhythm of Lee's breathing. There was an occasional pained hitch to it, but he couldn't hear it in Lee's voice. It made him wonder just how good Lee had gotten at hiding that he was hurting. "I don't like people," he eventually repeated.
He'd told Lee that before, but it never seemed to sink in. He wondered if Lee realized that he was the person Gaara spent the most time with. That no one had ever come as close as he had; that Gaara told him more than he did his own family, as chary as he often was with words.
"You should give people a chance," Lee said. "They are not all bad. Surely, there must be some who do not bother you. And...you cannot live your whole life alone, after all. That is no way to live." For a moment he wondered if he'd gone too far. Gaara generally didn't take well to being told what he could or couldn't do...but then, it was only the truth. Everyone needed other people sometimes, whether they admitted it or not.
"Yes, I can," Gaara answered. "I don't need people." After a pause, he slowly, deliberately stated, "I don't need you." Gaara knew that it was as much to convince himself as Lee. If he didn't need him, they wouldn't be having this conversation. He'd have unplugged his headset back when Lee had started talking about friendship, instead of letting him push further. But then, pushing was what Lee seemed to do best. Gaara still hadn't decided why he allowed it.
Those words hurt more than they should have. But even knowing Gaara was just saying them to be...well, to be Gaara, Lee felt a small, sharp twinge in his chest. Gaara was pushing him away. Maybe he ought to back off before he shut down entirely. But he couldn't just leave this alone. "I did not mean any offense," he said quietly, firmly, "but I find it difficult to believe that you truly do not need or want anyone. Are you really happy, being alone?"
"I don't need anyone." There was a ragged edge to Gaara's voice. "I don't. You're wrong." He tried to take solace in the words, and his fingers moved to the tattoo he'd gotten on his sixteenth birthday, lingering over the kanji. The skin was smooth beneath his fingers, but he knew it was there. Love. He loved himself, and he didn't need anyone else. "People don't make you happy." Then, quietly- "You trust too much."
"Maybe I do. But it is better than never trusting anyone. To live without trust, without those bonds...it is painful. After the accident..." His throat knotted up, and he blinked back tears, but plunged ahead. "The first few weeks after that happened...it was a bad time. I would not have made it through that time if Gai had not been there with me, by my side, through all of it. Before him, I never stayed in one place long enough to form any meaningful bonds with anyone. I know what it is like to be all alone. No one should have to live like that."
"What if he left?" The question slipped past Gaara's lips without his permission, but it was the slow-building anger he felt over Lee's words that made him press on. "What if Gai left you? What if he abandoned you? What if he had never cared at all, and only told you he did so that he could hurt you that much more? Do you even realize how much he could hurt you? How much I could hurt you?" His voice was raw, each question spoken more quickly than the last until his tongue was tripping over the syllables, but Gaara couldn't stop them. It was too close and he needed to stop thinking about it, to not think about Yashamaru, they needed to stop talking and Lee needed to go away.
"Gaara..." Lee fell silent, eyes wide at the pain in that voice. Until now, Gaara had spoken in a flat monotone. Now he sounded like a wounded creature; his voice was raw, rough, bleeding.
Again, a little voice in Lee's mind urged him to stop and back off. But he'd never been good at listening to that little voice. "Yes, you could hurt me," he said quietly. "Every time you open your heart to someone, you risk getting hurt. But if I never took that chance, if I never made the decision to trust someone, I would never have any happiness, either. I would never have found him...or you." He paused...then spoke very softly. "I am glad I found you."
"Don't say things like that," Gaara whispered. "Stop saying things like that." He slipped the headphones off, letting them fall onto the bed. He could hear Lee's voice through them, small and quiet, but he couldn't make out the words. He didn't want to make out the words. His fingers fumbled, pushing the screen of his laptop up just enough to slide between it and the keyboard, and he held the power button down.
To be continued