Shots shots shots shots

[Jamie Mills]

[tw: blood/death via flashback]

Date: September 14, 2014



Thick black blood, warm and pulsating with every fluttering heart beat, coated his fingers- seeping through the cracks despite his persistence to keep it in. Smith was gasping and his brown eyes, which were usually light and mischevious, were dark now and getting darker as his pupils dilated even though the sun was high in the sky. Jamie was begging him to stay calm, as if that would help matters. He felt Smith grasping at his stomach, then his thigh, but the hold was getting weaker with every beat of his heart.

“No no no no.” Jamie repeated over and over again, “Rich...Richy please.” He was fumbling for the radio, but he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t there. But it should be? It should be. 

Frustrated, yelling as loud as he could, Jamie hadn’t realized this wasn’t real. Hadn’t realized that he was sleeping in his new apartment thousands of miles away and months into the future. In real life, his radio had been strapped to his belt, but useless. It’d caught a bullet that would have otherwise gone straight into Jamie’s kidney, but he hadn’t known that at the time. Instead, in this horrific dream world, the radio was gone, and with it his one chance to save Smith.

Smith's hand stopped clutching at his leg, and he let out his last breath- a rattle that Jamie shouldn’t have been able to hear in all the raucous around him, and it was only then he woke with a start, his voice raw from screaming into the darkness of his bedroom. It took him a minute to remember where he was, pushing himself up from his makeshift bed on the floor and scrambling himself into a corner. He desperately wanted to turn on a light, but the back of his mind told him he couldn’t- that light would give his position away, and he had no choice but to sit in the darkness of the early morning, shuddering as the sweat coating every inch of his body began to cool.

It’d been weeks since the last nightmare like that. To the point where Jamie had almost thought he had weathered the worst of it. He obviously hadn’t... and his next thought was to drink. So he drank. It didn’t offer much relief, and he was aware that he’d only regret it later, but it didn’t stop him from trying to drown the flashing pictures in his mind. When he finally slept again, sunlight was streaming through his curtain-less windows and the TV was mumbling quietly.

When he woke again, parched and groggy, the evening news was recounting the day’s events and promising a bright and sunny day tomorrow. Jamie blinked, aware only that his back hurt from the position in which he’d passed out, and that he desperately needed to piss. He kept the lights off in the bathroom, not really wanting to look at his own reflection, but at least had the presence of mind to wash his hands, arms and face with the cold water to get him a little more coherent. He stumbled towards the kitchen, turning on the faucet and proceeding to fill and large cup with water and drink it down three times before he finally felt he was hydrated again. The water sloshed around in his stomach though, reminding him that he was desperately hungry. One glance into the empty fridge before Jamie was already in the mindset to go out. He was out of drinks too- he’d have to go stock up again.

The bar would do for now; Jamie undressed and grabbed some new clothes, pulling a hoodie over his head and combing his fingers through his very short hair in order to get it all going to same direction."Keys, phone, wallet." he mumbled his little mantra, slipping each into his pockets and then patting the pockets again twice to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything before he was finally ready to leave.

He forwent his truck, stuffing his hands into his hoodie pocket as he walked. The air was crisp, but the evening was still rather young. Luckily, Jamie was nearly sober enough that he could pass as simply tired, but he still avoided looking at anyone he passed on his way over to the bar that had quickly become a favorite of his. He didn't want people to get the wrong idea about him.

The bar wasn't as busy as usual, not yet at least. Jamie was pleased to find his favorite seat unoccupied, and quickly got settled in- ordering a hamburger, fries, a beer and a double shot of whiskey to get him going and squinting at the TV off to the side.

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan didn't deal with nightmares often. He wasn't sure if it was a side effect of his drinking, or the way things had always been, but he rarely ever recalled his dreams. Most of the time, he just passed out and the next thing he knew he was rolling over in the morning looking for his flask to help deal with his hangover. If he dreamed in between, he never knew about it.

Still Stefan had plenty of reasons even without nightmares to head to the bar. Mostly he just wanted some company. Someone to talk to. Someone to drink with. Someone to flirt with. And maybe someone to invite home for the evening to make the long night less lonely too.

He walked into the bar to find it just starting to fill up for the evening. It was nice because he could settle in and scan the crowd for a bit if he wanted to. But instead of finding his own little spot he decided to sit near-er someone, like the build young man eating at the bar.

"That's a nice shirt...could I talk you out of it?" he said, helping himself to the seat next to the man. He looked up at the bar tender and signaled for his usual scotch, before turning back to his companion. Though the flirt was more his way of saying hello than anything serious, it never hurt to try. Still he gave a smile to show he was only half teasing. He didn't want to have yet another fist fight for flirting with the wrong guy.

[Jamie Mills]

Upon receiving his beer and whiskey, Jamie drank a gulp of the beer to lower the volume and then proceeded to unceremoniously dump the double shot into his beer and chug. Despite being mostly sober since his day long nap, the beer helped dull a few senses, and he motioned for the bartender to get him another as he waited for his food.

Three boilermakers and half a burger later, Jamie shifted, sitting up straight for a minute to survey his surroundings before he returned to his slouched position, grabbing up a couple fries and chewing them mindlessly as he stared at the TV. Watching, but not really watching and thanking the bartender with a nod when he was brought another beer.

He swallowed half the pint and set it down when he heard the light creak of the stool next to him and saw the other man out of the corner of his eye. Well on his way to being drunk once more, the close proximity only set off a few dull alarms in his mind. Snorting, looking the man over and deciding he was of no immediate danger to him, Jamie turned in his stool just slightly in order to face the other man.

“Does that line ever work?” He asked, masking his slurred speech well enough from years of practice.

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan smiled, watching the young man react to his sudden appearance. It was obvious he had consumed his share of drinks so far for the evening, not that Stefan was judging. The reporter was well on his way to catching up. Still the young man seemed to be handing himself well. And that was a skill Stefan definitely admired and believed he shared.

"You'd be surprised," he explained. "Really it's just a way to break the ice, like all lines. Though I hoped I get a few points now and then for creativity." Even if not everyone would agree with him, Stefan certainly enjoyed him own lines. He grinned before turning away for a second to get his drink. He took a look swallow and told the bar keep he might as well pour him another and keep them coming.

"So what brings such a fine young man to such a fine establishment?" he asked, giving the young man a quick once-over. He was pretty sure his new friend wasn't interested in anything beyond a friendly chat, but Stefan wanted to make sure before he gave up on that hope. Luckily for the younger man, Stefan was still sober enough that he was better at reading signals then he would be in an hour or two.

[Jamie Mills]

Jamie surveyed the man interestedly, nodding at his words like he were speaking some sort of sermon. When the man received his beer, Jamie followed his suit and took a long swig of his own, setting the mug down with a slosh of the beer inside and wiping the side of his mouth with the back of his hand, blinking a few times with a bit of a deadpan expression.

He could tell the older gentleman was looking him over, and wondered what exactly he was thinking. He was older- perhaps as old as his father, perhaps a little older. He had guts, that’s for sure, and in some sort of way, Jamie might even admit he was a little flattered. Lost in his own thoughts, it took him a moment to realize a question had been asked of him, and laughed a little while his brain whirred to catch up.

“Good, cheap beer...excellent entertainment…” he waved his left hand around the top of his head for a moment. “Couldn’t imagine being anywhere else on Sunday night,” he didn't realize he spoke with a bit more bite than he’d intended, but his face was soft, if not a bit sad looking, and it was fairly obvious he wasn’t speaking harshly on purpose. He paused a moment before raising a hand to the other man and clearing his throat as if he were preparing a monolouge.

“How’s this...you ready? My buddy used this one once and, by god, it worked.” he paused again for a moment, as if he were attempting to keep from laughing or crying, “Hey baby- Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist, right?” he snorted at the ridiculousness, shaking his head as he grabbed up his beer once again.


“I’m Jamie. ...and not so good at pick-up lines myself.”

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan was enjoying the attention. Even though he thrived more on just having someone to talk to, someone to be with, Stefan did enjoy being the center of attention now and then. Especially when he had the attention of such a fine looking young man.

It was true Stefan had guts when it came to his courage in the dating scene. Of course most of that was liquid courage. But he also had a bit of an ego sometimes, particularly in his ability to read people. Still, even in his fifties Stefan knew how to have a good time. And he rarely got complaints the next morning. So maybe it wasn't all ego.

"I agree," Stefan said, noting the sadness in the young man and hoping he could do a little something to improve that. "Not to mention all of the beautiful people." Though he gave a vague gesture over the rest of the bar, he kept his eyes on the man in front of him to be clear just who he was really talking about.

Stefan smiled throughout the entire monologue, letting out a hearty chuckle at the line. "I'll have to try that one out sometime. I'm always on the lookout for new material."

"I'm Stefan...and with eyes like yours, you don't need any lines."

[Jamie Mills]

Even in a slightly-less-than-sober state, Jamie could tell by the way Stefan kept his eyes fixed on his that even if he was motioning around the room, talking about beautiful people, he meant him in at least some way. Jamie might not be so easily bashful, but even he ducked his head a bit at the unexpected attention. Perhaps if he swung that way? The guy had an air about him that Jamie was sure lured many. Peircing eyes, undivided attention, witty compliments and one-liners.

He covered his momentary timidity (good lord, was he a child?) by raising his mug in a small salute and downing the remaining drink, and setting the empty cup down just as the other man was introducing himself.

“Good to meet you, Stefan,” he said with a small chuckle. To be honest, he really was glad for the company, even though he hadn’t really realized he was all that lonely. Then again, it would make sense, wouldn’t it? He was living alone for the first time in his life. As a kid, he’d lived with his parents, and then in the dorms of Hammel. Upon enlisting, he spent the next 9 years living in the barracks. Now, he couldn’t admit to himself that having his own place wasn’t a good thing for him.

“Lemme buy you a drink,” it took him a moment to realize what that might come across as and cocked his head to the side, pinching up his face a little, “I mean, not in that way...just…Not that I’m not flattered, ‘cause i am, really,”

He snapped his mouth shut, with a bit of an audible chomp, looking apologeticaly at Stefan for a moment before snorting and bringing a hand up to scratch absent mindedly at the back of his head, “...Drink?”

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan wasn’t exactly sober, actually there weren’t many times, if any, during the day that Stefan was completely sober. Still, it was early enough in this evening’s celebration that his ability was actually functioning well. Or more to the truth, he was interpreting and trusting his ability instead of seeing what he wanted to see. So even though it was clear to Stefan that Jamie was enjoying the compliments, he was also picking up that this conversation wasn’t going to lead back to Stefan’s bedroom. Still, company was company even if it was just a good conversation.

“The pleasure is all mine, Jamie,” he said, enjoying the young man’s laughter. Though Stefan tried not to let himself think about it, he was a lonely man. He didn’t see much of his nieces or nephew lately and his own daughter…well that relationship had been doomed from the start. Lucky for him there was always someone out at the bars.

He had to laugh, first at the line and then at the young man’s stumbles as he tried to cover it up. he held up a hand to way away Jamie’s concern.

“I got ya,” he said, grinning. “And of course I’ll let you buy me a drink, sweetie. Scotch please.” He gave a wink at the ‘sweetie’ to show he was only teasing.