whitetwoguns | But I ain't no madman.

ran into blonde, im ok

just now???

where r u

[Giving Larry a location a few blocks from the store. He's still there and it doubles for a 'yes, just now'.]

on the way

[And quickly. Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck. Is he walking into a trap? Is the kid really okay?

No flower however outlandish or interesting is worth what could have happened.]

[Freddy's waiting inside a small corner cafe, safe because he's in public but strategic in that no bullet can hit him without him seeing it first. That's the idea anyway. He could be right, he could be wrong. He only wants Larry to be here thirty-five minutes ago.]

[The old man makes it in about twelve. That count for anything? He's running hot and looking around for anything suspicious about this scenario at all. No one hiding anywhere? Nobody bleeding? Of course there's nothing obvious. That' d be convenient.

There the kid is. He weaves on through the tables and is able to stand right in front of him.]

He here? You okay?

[Voice low, clearly concerned.]

[Seeing that figure approaching is a huge fucking relief. So relieving Freddy actually gets out of his chair to stand in front of Larry too. Ready to fucking go and hide. His bag of goodies from the store is on the table.]

No, he ain't here. I'm okay.

[Physically speaking. Inside Freddy is feeling sick to his goddamn stomach. And he kind of looks it. His face is flushed too but dry.]

[Shit. That's right. He mentioned something about shopping a few days ago. About slipped his mind. Usually they'd go together. The old man had an early day and found himself shooting the shit among the flora. Where'd that leave Freddy? Out in the open.

How check yourself, Dimmy. He's a grown man. He has weapons. Blonde would also not strike at him in a public setting he couldn't control...would he? A sealed off jewelry store verses taking a few bodies out with the target, that' be too much crowd control. Maybe.

Fuck that piece of shit. Fuck him and his already difficult to predict mind.]

C'mon.

[In case that he is.]

Okay.

[Freddy nods, taking the bag along easily, like he's been ready to go home all along. But only with Larry. Who knows how but the kid's managed to keep on a cool facade in public, though his ash tray might imply otherwise.]

[Excuse him for walking with a hand tucked in his coat. How else would he fire immediately if he so much as saw anything that needed to neutralized.]

Are we cool to head home?

[Without being followed.]

Yeah we're cool. I saw him leave.

[That doesn't mean he couldn't have come back but Freddy's pretty sure Blonde's not the type to stick around and spy. They would have gotten into a brawl already if Blonde wanted to get him. Get him today anyway. He's not sure about tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, or any other time. He's been here a month with no other sighting though, how the fuck does that work?

Also excuse him for walking close to the old man's side.]

[No one knows how the fuck this is supposed to work. Blonde is a psycho. Larry's starting to get the idea that Joe had no idea how far this bad streak ran. It wasn't just crime, it was against everyone but himself. Men like White and Orange who have their own allies on either sides know the value of other people.

If Joe had only known, if he could have been there, Larry knows that Blonde wouldn't have made it out of the jewelry store.]

Tell me everything.

[Cool or not, he'll keep a hand in his coat all the same. Freddy may have to keep on carrying the groceries all on his own.]

[He's carrying he's carrying.] I ran into him inside. We talked about this place, his roommate. He told me he works for a weird lady.

[Larry already knows who that weird lady is.]

Fuckin' joked about unicorns and lasers. [There's that sick feeling again.] He never laid a hand on me, told me to tell you hi.

Hi.

[He shakes his head.]

Fucking bullshit. [Dick move if he ever heard of one. Why expect anything else. It is an innocent thing to do really. Why wouldn't he because they're acquaintances.

Or it could be a I see what you're doing sort of a wink and wave.]

Didn't ask any fishy questions or nothing? Ask where you worked?

[So that Freddy would have to evade.]

No. He didn't ask me shit, Larry. Nothin' personal.

[Shaking his head. Maybe that's the part that scares him the most, how incapable he is of doing anything because Blonde hasn't done a thing to warrant retaliation. But they know what he's like, they know he's the reason the heist turned into a bullet festival. And he's the reason they had to change plans that left White holding Orange's hand in a bloody backseat.]

[I'll kill him, I'll fucking kill him is what Larry wants to say. That is not going to do them any good at all. Get to the apartment for now, being out in the open air doesn't feel safe. It's the panic.

Fucking shit. That could be all he wants. Like some goddamn snot nosed kid he wants to tie tin cans to a cat's tail because he bloody well can.]

Who's the girl?

[And why was she worth talking about?]

I don't know but she's got a sweet tooth. He had a bag full of sugar shit.

[Shit a Newendyke would eat, really, but not Mr. Blonde. That would just make Freddy feel worse, knowing the guy has the same palate as himself. That would be fucking cruel. He's wondering the same thing too, if Blonde just wants to see him sweat but if he's the guy who went crazy in the shop, in the warehouse, then he doubts tying tin cans to his tail is where he'll stop. Not if he's already been shot back home. Who can tell though?]

I couldn't tell, you know? If he's... [Dead. Alive. Something.]

[It starts with tin cans before it's a stone to the head. Well, back in the day anyway. They give the kid's bb guns.]

You woulda if you could touch him. At least that's what they say.

[Perish the motherfucking thought. Mr. White puts a hand at Freddy's back as they near crossing at the intersection just as he had when they were making a run for it. There aren't any dead cops in their wake here.]

So he's got himself a girlfriend that might be a hostage or accomplice.

[Both are. Delightful.]

I don't want to touch him. [Freddy says almost too quickly, defensively.] Yeah. Somethin' like that.

[The kid affirms without any real sense of confidence. That guy sort of stole it, like all Blonde had to do was breathe in the air around him to make Freddy sweat. He held his own pretty well, all things considered, but he's still a little shaken up from the experience.]

Hey. [From back to shoulder and holding on tight.] I know. [He wouldn't want Freddy to. Not if he doesn't have to and certainly if that fucker isn't unconscious.

Their apartment is just ahead. Sooner in, the sooner they can get a drink.]

You did good.

[Sticking his ground, waiting until it was safe to get the old man around. That's worth repeating.]

[He doesn't edge away from those touches. Really those touches are a goddamn godsend.]

Thanks...

[Freddy says because he's not sure how else to respond to that. He wishes he could have done better for both of them, somehow.]

[Rubbing, touching, squeezing because he feels like that's all he can do before they get home.

They should roll a blunt too.]

It's true.

[It didn't end in a shoot out. See, in someways that makes Blonde a lesser because for all his cool and calm, he still shot up a whole goddamn place because something in him went off the rocker. Well, he wasn't on it to begin with.

Getting a clear cut positive right now outside of they're unharmed is kinda hard to find.

Okay. They've made it safe to their building.]

[Once they're inside the building he nudges the old man.]

Larry.

[Take the bag. No really, take the bag Dimick, because this kid is quickly going to find his way into a semi-secluded corner to lose the most recent snack he had.]

[Bag in his hand now. He's got to let Freddy slip from his grip.]

Jesus Christ.

[Spoken softly. Larry clears his throat and keeps some distance. Give the poor guy some air.]

Let it all out.

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