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[5055034455]

№ 150



❝ This is Saul Goodman. Leave a message. ❞

Comments

[lazyinlove]

[He's not surprised to see the chart thrown like that, nor at the "what the hell is wrong with you?" That's all pretty standard when he screws up. The mention of concern gets another eyebrow quirk, though. That's a new one. Is it like a guilt trip tactic or something?]

I don't binge drink...a lot...usually. Anyway, it's not whatever you're thinking. I'm not-

[Jesse he almost says, but stops himself in time. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to know about that. Or guess at it, anyway.Stanley shrugs.]

I'm not suicidal, alright?

[5055034455]

[That was a damn good catch, Stan, because Saul was already bristling in anticipation of that response. And yet he still looks annoyed, eyes narrowed.]

Yeah, you better not be.

[He's so good at dealing with things like this.]

How hard is it to take care of yourself?

[lazyinlove]

[Of all things, it's that one which gets the guilty response. He's not sorry for partying too hard or for freaking you out, dude. But he is ashamed that he can't seem to just figure out how to live without adult supervision like the rest of the entire city has. His features soften out, sadness breaking through the usual indifference.

Stanley is used to screwing up, he's used to getting things wrong and getting into bad spots. But his mom used to be around to at least make sure his basic needs were met. And frankly, it turns out he is total shit at doing that for himself. Tony would give him hell for it if he were here now. How hard is it to take care of yourself? Pretty fucking hard, man. But he can't say that. It's not hard for anyone else.]

It's just the flu.

[5055034455]

[Seeing that look on Stan's face is a little surprising, but it's not enough to keep Saul from tapping the chart, hard, with an index finger.]

Do me a favor and pretend, just for ten seconds, that you don't think I'm an idiot. I wasn't making up what I just read, and you know it. This is what happens when people treat themselves like shit.

[lazyinlove]

Okay Dad, I'll make sure to be home for dinner more often.

[Sulky teenager achieved. He slumps down on the pillow and gives the wall a dirty look.]

[5055034455]

Is that what it'll take to get you to eat properly? Seriously, I'll do it. I cook for Lee and Remy anyway. You can come over.

[He's 100% serious.]

[lazyinlove]

You know how to cook?

[It's like a magic trick. And it's one that Stan regards with immediate interest. His stomach actually growls just at the suggestion of a real meal. At home it was never a concern, the cafeteria had lunch and his mom always made dinner. If he woke up in time, there was cereal or whatever around for breakfast. Food was always so easy.

Here, it was tough. It wasn't just around anywhere, aside from Jesse's cookies. Which he'd eaten plenty of, made himself half sick on chocolate chips and sweet bread. But it hadn't occurred to him that someone around might know how to cook for real, or be willing to include him at a dinner table. He's more than a little surprised by the offer.]

[5055034455]

Of course I know how to cook.

[He sounds so offended.

Mock-offended.

Three ex-wives — you bet your ass he eventually learned how to cook for himself. Necessity is the mother of many things.]

When they discharge you, you can come over and I'll make you dinner. Or lunch, if it's lunchtime. Or — whatever, I'll make you whatever you want regardless of what time it is, as long as you eat it. Deal?

[lazyinlove]

Deal.

[What's his face doing right now? It must be new and weird for Saul, but yep, that's a smile. Stanley is pretty psyched at the offer of a home cooked meal as a reward for getting out of the hospital. He's totally going to kick some flu ass.]

Can you do pasta? Spaghetti and meatballs?

[5055034455]

[Oh, huh. So that's what it looks like when Stan's not pretending to not care about things!]

Spaghetti, yes. Meatballs, also yes, but I don't really trust the meat in this place. A steak is one thing, but ground meat? Eh.

[lazyinlove]

It's cool, they know me in the hospital now. Bet they'll hook me up with another sweet IV drip if I get like rat poisoning.

[Just like that, back to joking around.]

[5055034455]

[That's a relief. If people can joke around, they're okay. So Stan is okay.]

Don't push your luck, kid.

[lazyinlove]

I'm not push my luck guy.

[He's not even luck guy, after all. But he relaxes back into the pillows now that Saul isn't freaking out. Good, he was getting tired.]

[5055034455]

[Saul hasn't stopped being tired.]

So aside from all this — [he gestures to indicate the room] — what's new with you?

[lazyinlove]

Seriously?

[He can't decide if he should be amused or incredulous at that. People here never ask him what's new. He just quirks an eyebrow and shrugs.]

Nothing. We're in between all the death and destruction lately, so I've been doing nothing.

[5055034455]

Nothing at all? There must be something. Training? Business transactions? You got a girlfriend yet?

[Asked oh-so casually, as he inspects a few of the monitors Stan's hooked up to.]

Or a boyfriend. Or both, whatever.

[lazyinlove]

[That doesn't really get a reaction. Or even some clarification. Apparently the kid is secure in his sexuality, at least. Whatever it happens to be.]

No. Business is slow, people are tight fisted here. So's my love life. Alright?

[5055034455]

[He holds his hands up.]

Alright.

[Jeez, Stan. Don't get so defensive.]

[lazyinlove]

[He's sick and cranky, dude. Aren't you glad you came?]

Did you bring a pen?

[5055034455]

[So glad. Saul arches an eyebrow at the question, but starts patting his pockets nonetheless — and look, what do you know, he's got one in the breast of his jacket and offers it to Stan.]

[lazyinlove]

[Stan accepts the pen and then looks around for something to write on. The only paper he can think of isn't in the room, though. So he tucks the pen behind his ear and wriggles out of the blankets, shakily climbing out if the bed. There's a practiced ease to it, even if it does seem like exertion at the moment. When he's free of that, he puzzled for a moment over the new locking mechanism on his pet IV pole. Hmm...]

How about a pin? Or a toothpick?

[5055034455]

[Saul watches Stan go, expression incredulous.

Really, Stan.]

You can't just ask me to get whatever it is you're looking for?

[lazyinlove]

[Oh. Right. Saul isn't chained to anything. That makes sense. Stan sinks down beside the bed rather than bothering to get back into it at the moment and points across the hall to show the way to...the lavatories?

Wait for it-

And thankfully, just requests another precious commodity.]

Paper.

[5055034455]

[Is this kid really sitting on the floor.

In a hospital.

Really.

Saul stares at him for a moment, then huffs out a frustrated little sound and disappears into the hall again. He returns much more quickly, this time, and hands Stan a few sheets of paper. They're printed on, but he's hoping Stan has the common sense to turn them over.]

[lazyinlove]

[Hey, paper he can work. And he does. The list is short.

plants and growing equip--> the girl with the tomatoes
cash 1/2 --> an Exsile called Dart he runs a crappy bar in the red light district
1/2 to a little girl named Peace. Giovanni knows who she is and where to find her.
Tablet -->stash this in case I come back it's got my shit on it, same with my phone and music player.
everything else --> set it out in a box at the market and let people do what they want

Instructions accomplished, he slides the paper over to Saul's feet and casually starts folding an airplane out if the next sheet.]

Lawyer it up and I'll sign whatever when you're done with it.