~*~ Someone play the Rocky theme and open a bottle of champagne cause I feel like celebrating! After two weeks of crappiness and unproductivity, my writer's block is GONE! Thank god, cause it's been bumming the hell out of me. I know I'm supposed to be happy cause its spring in my neck of the world and everybody's celebrating the warmth and junk, but I hate it. Spring means I'm expected to go outside and play, when I'd rather be in my room writing. For the past three years in a row, I've gotten the Spring Blues and just slump and bum everything. It sucks!
But the curse is over, and just in time cause I've got finals and five multi-page papers to write for classes. Who knew being an English Major meant I had to write a lot?
And I've finally got off my ass and wrote this chapter. Why it took me so long I don't know, because this was fun to write. And I'm rambling. Sorry.
Musical Muse: Axel Rose, Kurt Cobain, and Keith Richards' mad musical talents.
Warnings: Swears, ConWorth, the usual.
Disclaimer: Not Tess, and I hope she gets over her own art-block or whatever soon.
~*~Ocean of Grief Chapter 4~*~
Any trace of good mood had long vanished by the time Conrad got to Worth's door. The journey to the fake doctor's office was never a pleasant one, seeing how Worth seemed to live in the middle of a labyrinth of back alleys lined with hookers and drug dealers. This particular night was even less enjoyable, because the rain that had initially given Veser his cold still hadn't let up, so that by the time he got to Worth's office, he was cold, wet, and thoroughly pissed off.
Perhaps it was a good thing that Worth was in a terrible mood too. This way he didn't have to feel that stupid twinge of guilt that he felt when he was a dick to him.
"Wha took yer faggy ass so long?" Worth snarled when he finally tumbled though the door. Conrad didn't answer immediately, as he was momentarily struck by the amount of smoke in the office. Unless something had lit on fire in a back room, Worth probably had been smoking from the moment he woke up.
"Jesus Worth are you testing your smoke alarm?" Conrad waved his hand in front of his face to clear the air, and –stupidly, accidentally –took a breath, then proceeded to hack his lungs out. He may not need air, but damnit he'd been breathing all his life; it was hard to break a habit. And it tickled his lungs.
Worth laughed at him, that horribly raspy laugh that ended with a little cough of his own. Conrad would be worried about how bad that laugh sounded…if Worth wasn't such an ass who apparently didn't even give a shit about his own health.
"Ya don't like it don't breathe it." Worth shot back once he caught his breath. Conrad rolled his eyes at the predictability of the answer and waited while Worth hauled his ass up from behind his desk. He stumbled over to his counter and almost collapsed onto the surface. Conrad raised an eyebrow and wondered just what kind of smoke this actually was. Worth seemed just a little bit more sloppy than usual.
Sloppy and possibly high or not, as Worth began pulling stuff from cabinets with a determined look on his face, Conrad was forced to acknowledge that Worth actually knew what he was doing. Worth had talent, even if it never showed underneath the grit and grime. And that, more than Worth's disgusting habits and asshole attitude, was what pissed him off the most about this human. Someone like him shouldn't be so damn good at anything productive.
He was doing something on the counter, hiding it with his white furry shoulders. Conrad wanted to ask just what he was mixing up, and if it was poisonous in any way, but wisely kept quiet. Worth seemed to hate having anyone around while he was working. The back room where he treated his patients was sacred ground, only for him and the wounded to tread. So far, Conrad had never had the distinct pleasure of being the one fixed up back there, and had never even witnessed him working on Hanna's frequent injuries. But occasionally someone would come in with a gunshot or a stab wound and Worth would fix them up then and there, even if Conrad was standing right there silently watching. Worth didn't seem to mind that, but snapped something terrible if Conrad got too close or said anything. And Worth called his compulsions unusual.
And goddamnit, they only way he knew this is that he had ended up spending way too much time in Worth's presence and picked up on his habits. The man had an annoying way of starting arguments and making it hard for Conrad to just walk away, so he ended up enduring Worth's torments and innuendos. He must be turning into some sort of masochist, because it ended up being sort of fun. And that was a bad thing, because…because it just was! And he didn't have time for the usual antics today. He needed to fix Veser up, because having a mopey seal-kid bumming on his couch didn't sit well with him.
"Oi, failpire!" The terrible nickname caught his attention, and he realized that Worth was now propped up on the counter, hiding something in his clenched hand and that terrible smirk back on his face. His eyes glittered from the deepest black circles surrounding his eyes with a horrible amusement. "Don't tell me yer getting loopy from this smoke too. Didn't know vampires could get high this way."
Conrad scoffed at the notion, but was secretly wondering the same thing. Worth had asked several unusual questions on previous visits, like if he ever tasted drugs or last meals in the blood he drank, which made Conrad question the source of some of his dinners. He could chalk it up to Worth asking just to make him uncomfortable, but somehow he thought it was the scientific side of the doctor that was willing to absorb any new idea. A ridiculous notion, yes, but after several months –had it really been that long? –of associating with the doctor, he was fairly certain he was right. Worth was a tough nut to crack, but he was starting to understand. There was more to the doctor than a hideous coat and a bad attitude, just like there was more to Hanna than a spastic ginger and more to Veser than a teenage punk who currently had a cold.
Reminded of his mission, Conrad glared right back at the doctor. "I'm perfectly fine!" he snapped, and was answered with a snort that spoke of pure bullshit. Conrad was actually inclined to agree. His head hurt, and it wasn't his usual Worth-Veser combined headache. Shaking off his problems, he gestured at Worth's closed hand. "What've you got?" he demanded.
Worth huffed at the change in topic, then extended his needle-thin arm and opened his hand to reveal a small bag of herbs.
"That better not be pot!" Conrad yelped. So it wasn't dangerous he needed to worry about, it was illegality. He pointed an accusing finger at the offending package. "I'm not paying for pot!"
"Watsa matter Connie, think you can get a better price somewhere else?" Worth was laughing at him, again, that mocking hack that usually landed him with a fist in his face. Conrad restrained himself, praying with all his might that this was some sort of joke. It was still so hard to tell sometimes when dealing with Worth.
Worth's grin held, as did the extended bag of mysterious substances. "S'not pot, ya poof, don't git yer undies in a bunch." The accompanying leer directed at him had Conrad shifting nervously. "Traditional herbal remedy, all natural-" Conrad hated that emphasis, even as he felt relief "-perfectly legal shit that'll knock Ves on his ass and he'll come up swingin real quick. Ya just whip it up like that green tea shit. The steam will clear up his lungs, the tea will up the healing…" Worth dropped the little bundle into Conrad's eager hands and shrugged. "Ya know, nothin much." He said carelessly, as if he prescribed possibly archaic herbal remedies every day.
Conrad couldn't stop staring in amazement. Worth just had this stuff lying around in his office, stuff that could put pharmacists out of business, and it wasn't even that big of a deal to him. He was struck dumb by the notion of Worth's indifference, and quietly couldn't help but wonder just what would have occurred if Worth had really stuck to actual medicine.
"Um…thanks, I guess." Conrad tried for the same level of casualness that Worth achieved, but he knew he failed. If this stuff actually worked, it would get Veser off his couch and out of his little funk all the faster. "How much?" he asked, ready to pay anything for this miracle substance.
Worth shrugged again, still perched on his counter and digging in an inner pocket, probably for more smokes. "Yeh can pay me back later." He muttered, not looking up from the packet of cigarettes he acquired from the depths of his coat. "Just, yanow, get that kid back on his feet." This was spoken so softly that Conrad was certain he wouldn't have heard it if he wasn't a vampire.
Now thoroughly unnerved, Conrad offered another "thanks" as he went out the door. Worth may not care about society, but apparently he cared about making a sick kid better.
Short chapter is short, I know. And sorry for making you put up with my musings about Worth's character, it's just me reading waaay too much into stuff. I can't help it. Seriously, these three guys are my favorite characters, no lie.
Please leave reviews. I need something to keep my spirits up. Finals are gonna be a bitch, so I might not update soon