Mumble

②⓪①⑤ - C H A P T E R : [1 2]

12.

James was face down on Ozzie's bed when he walked into the bedroom, his ebony curls fluffed out at random angles like he'd been running a hand through them right before falling asleep. Ozzie couldn't help rolling his eyes at the sight. Fucking cat, he thought.

As he watched, James' head shifted so that it was pillowed against his arm, his left leg sticking off the edge of the mattress while his body curled into the one streak of sunlight that reached him, like - well - the cat Ozzie thought he was. All he was missing was a pair of whiskers and a tail.

A light snore whistled past the older boy's lips and Ozzie snorted. It had almost sounded like a purr. He shook his head. Such a fucking cat. He took off his shirt, balling it up before chucking it at his napping friend. "Get up," he mumbled. He wasn't too sure his voice would carry but he probably didn't need it to, not when the shirt carried well enough on its own.

It sailed through the air, unfurling completely just before it draped itself across his friend's face. The other boy jerked awake, spluttering and cursing as the fabric got stuck between his lips. "Huh?! Wha-? Shit- Fuck! Gross dude!" James pulled the shirt away from his mouth, his nose wrinkled in disgust, "man, didn't you puke in this?!"

Ah. Yeah. That's right. Probably why it'd reeked so much. Whoops.

Ozzie shrugged, padding lightly towards his chest of drawers, and pulled his bottom lip idly between his teeth."Turn around a sec," he said, free hand playing with the hem of the shorts he was wearing, "gonna put my pants on."

"Yeah, yeah," James grumped, turning to face the wall, "god you're a shit."

"Sorry." James just grunted in response.

For a few moments the only sound was that of rustling fabric and faint breathing. Ozzie quickly shimmied out of his shorts, tossing them aside and grabbing the first pair of briefs he saw (they had Captain America's shield in a repeating motif across them) before slipping on a loose fitting pair of sweats.

James shot a glance over his shoulder. "You good?"

"Peachy," Ozzie deadpanned, looking for a new shirt or something to wear. His chest was getting cold. "Pass me that hoodie." He nodded to the mound of white sitting between his bed and his window.

James stretched to look over the edge. "Which one?" he asked.

"I only have one."

"The Marvel one?"

"No shit, Sherlock."

"Ouch," James frowned and tossed Ozzie the hoodie, "no need to be so testy Romanoff."

"Sorry," Ozzie sighed and tugged the hoodie over his head, "Tired."

"No problem, bro," James rolled his shoulder and pushed himself off the bed. He twisted his back, letting out a satisfied groan when it cracked, "you had a rough night."

"Yeah," we both did. Ozzie opened and closed his fists. He could still see it when he closed his eyes. Her body. Haley's body. The body of a teenage girl he didn't even know.

It made him sick.

Shaking his head, Ozzie joined James by the window where the other boy already had a cigarette dangling between his lips. He offered one to Ozzie who gratefully accepted it with a soft "thanks dude".

"Fuck," he said after his first puff. The nicotene did a little for the trembling in his hands but not much else, "wish this was weed."

James hummed in agreement, blowing a long stream of smoke from his mouth. "I'll sneak some past Toni for you later."

"Thanks man."

James waved his hand noncommittally. "No problem."

The two of them lapsed into a comfortable silence, letting the noon day sounds of traffic and typical city bluster wash over them. Ozzie tilted his head up, sunlight brushing gentle fingers over his face and he felt something in him settle just a bit more.

"You ready to see old Nelly then?" James asked stubbing out his cigarette on the windowsill and flicking it down into the alley way below. He cleared his throat, spitting out the window, "we really should be heading out soon if I'm gonna be taking you, y'know."

He let the words wash over him while Ozzie took a few more silent puffs of his cigarette, head tilted so the sun could warm his face a little longer. Everything seemed a little more vibrant with the rain gone. Ozzie couldn't help but notice. It was as if LA got some of its mojo back, smells a little crisper, colours a little bolder, laughs a little louder. The gray that had stuck to everything for the past three days finally seemed to be bleeding away. It was...a relief in a way.

Nothing had changed in his life, Ozzie knew - well actually in the past twenty-four hours it had gotten even worse - but seeing that the rest of the world kept spinning with or without him was strangely cathartic. No matter how shit his life was, in the end he was nothing but a tiny blip on the Earth's six billion year old timeline. A subatomic nineteen years. Hardly a sneeze.

Insignificant.

He liked it that way.

Ozzie ground out his cigarette in much the same way James had and nodded. "As I'll ever be," he sighed.

James squeezed his shoulder."Okay then," he closed the window, bathing the room in the kaleidoscopic light of the stained glass window that the Archangel Raphael stared impassively out of and Ozzie blinked, cocking his head to the side as if just realizing James was beside him.

He grinned, a little sheepish and a bit sad, the smile nothing like the one James gave to the cameras. But that was okay because this one wasn't for them. It was for Ozzie, small and tired and wrenchingly honest in a way no photo-op or paparazzi could ever capture.

It tugged at something in Ozzie, something that felt uncomfortably like guilt. He could see the dark circles standing out like faint violet bruises underneath his eyes. The way that even if James' smile was real there was still an edge of pain that kept it from really being happy and that. That was his fault.

Cuffing Ozzie lightly on the back of the head, James brought their foreheads together, smile just a little bit wider at Ozzie's disgruntled expression. "Let's go yeah?" He said, pulling away. Don't worry about me.

"Idiot," Ozzie grumbled, smoothing out his hair with not so amused glare. He sighed, pulling his hood over his head and swiping his glasses off the bedside table. "Come on then."

He skulked out the door, hands shoved in his hoodie's pockets and it was only when he heard James laugh, a sound less pained then the haunted look in his eyes, that Ozzie allowed himself the ghost of a smile.