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A sharp rattle of knocks sounds from Manny's motel door, rousing him from his sleep. No matter how many fights they'd been through or how long giving each other the silent treatment stretched; Manny Vargas didn't think he would forget how Craig Boone knocked any time soon. Pretty pathetic to remember every detail about a man who didn't return your feelings but it wasn't like it was something you could turn off, especially after all the years they served together.
So he rose, answering the call he'd received many times before and braced himself for whatever mood his friend was in at the moment. Boone had always been tricky - Manny too - but he'd gotten worse recently, it's like he was friends with a stranger some days. His bare feet padded across the carpet, avoiding the weird sticky spot he couldn't get rid of no matter how hard he scrubbed, and opened the door a bit too quickly for his own liking. Next time he'd wait a bit, let him stir, before answering. Yeah, next time.
"Hey." Boone shouldered his way inside, not even making eye contact. Not that it would be much behind those shades.
Manny startled for a moment, taking a few seconds to register the abrupt entrance. "What you doin' man? Who's at Dinky?" Their hangouts grew rarer and rarer since his friend got married so it was only natural for him to have some questions, and to have that edge of worry in his voice. He shut the door nice and slow. Smooth, not slightly on edge at all.
Boone gestured to the general direction of Ranger Andy's room and fell onto the couch, looking far too relaxed considering how tight he'd been wound up in recent months, hell recent year. "He owes me a favor." He could have been drunk, but he wasn't sluggish enough for that. Manny stood at the door, debating what to do with his body, trying not to come off too strong but also not too disinterested. He settled on resting against the wall, arms crossed, but the peeling wallpaper sticking to his shoulder was making him more anxious. Giving the itch down his skin a more physical real feeling.
A few seconds of silence went by, the pair staring at each other.
Boone broke it first with a small clearing of his throat, he always did, and it snapped the Khan out of whatever spell he was under. "You, uh, not staying the night are you? It's just I thought we stopped doin-" He didn't mean it like that. Or maybe he did.
"Shut up."
"Right, yeah." Idiot. He stuttered, beginning to nervously draw shapes in the dust on the wall, starting with something that resembled a mountain. "It's just I got some friends staying soon but I don't know when." Could be tomorrow, next week, or next fucking month; they always were vague on details and it had him uneasy.
"Didn't think you had friends."
His finger halted in the dust, the snow on the mountain not fully formed. He knew it was Boone trying to joke, trying to be like old times but it came out broken, burning more harshly than a teasing remark against a dear friend was meant to. Maybe Manny was getting sensitive, maybe Boone just forgot how to communicate with another guy. Another span of silence stretched, Manny passed the point to reply to his joke and the air grew heavier and heavier. Awkward. He cleared his throat before speaking, still looking at the scenery he was drawing on the ancient wallpaper. "Did you, uh, have another fight?" They both knew who he meant. They both knew he was too much of a coward to even say her name.
So Boone did it for him. "Carla." But no further elaboration came, maybe her name was answer enough for Boone, but Manny didn't have the energy or patience for picking apart hidden meanings and implications. Not tonight anyway. Maybe another time would be better. When Manny was in a different mood. When Boone was his old self instead of whatever character he was trying to play right now.
The anger from even hearing her name gave him the confidence to look his best friend in the eyes again, he could feel his face burn with the jealousy. "She doesn't see you all night then kicks you out when you finally do get back? It isn't right for her to treat you like that." He knew it wasn't the 'right' thing to say, what Boone wanted to hear, but what was right? It's not like Manny was equipped to really delve into a man's psyche and turn back time, fix the points where things went wrong.
"And you'd treat me better?" Few words could do a whole lot of hurt, and Craig had always been good at that.
The pain in that tease was purposeful this time, Manny could tell. "You're a fucking dickhead sometimes." He turned back and drew a sun above the mountain.
"Gonna kick me out?"
No. Not like her. "I could."
The sun grew six rays before Boone spoke. "You won't though." A small grin twitched at the corner of his lips, no beer bottle hiding it, not like he usually did. Craig Boone was being especially brave tonight.
Manny turned facing his best friend fully once more, the deep ache in his chest made him feel like he was trying to talk underwater. "Come on, man. We never used to be like this, what happened?" A pleading, desperate tone to his words. Bitter Springs, Manny knew it. Just didn't want to admit it, say it out loud, let the truth hang in the stagnant air of the motel room all cozy and bunched up with all their other secrets. The time Manny kissed Boone and he didn't kiss him back. When Boone cried for the first time in front of him and he ran because he was meant to be the weak one. Boone telling him he found the woman of his dreams as they shared the same bottle of beer. He never drank that same brand again and it all added up, the Khan massacre was the cap on the bottle.
"We did."
"We did what?"
"To both." So that was it. Not it but a healthy replacement for the pain it seemed: the answer Boone was using tonight.
Many men may assume Craig Boone wasn't an intelligent man, many men are wrong. Just because he didn't talk much didn't mean he didn't have anything to say, sometimes being quiet meant the enemy kept talking. Manny knew who fit into that enemy role in the dank motel room, in the place he designated paradise for them both. Sometimes, when the job of keeping watch of the town wasn't strenuous enough and he lay on his bed staring at the mold on the ceiling, the question of "But why did he come with you?" rattled in his head like a bad song. But he didn't think he'd ever get his answer, especially not tonight with having already said all the wrong things in the span of less than ten minutes.
The mood changed once more, twisting and malforming into an unrecognizable shape.
He forced his arms to relax, finger itching to get back to his little project on the wall."Let's just forget it, talk about something else." The muscle in his jaw twitched, a warning.
"Shoot." Boone scratched at his chin, looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days. But still as handsome as ever. Manny's chest felt tighter and tighter, it was getting painful.
The Khan shook his head, eyes finding themselves drawn to the thread bare carpet instead of the face that haunted his dreams so often. He racked his brain, feeling really keen for a topic change. "I, uh, I saw that Follower again, Daisy walks out about 20 minutes after he passes. Like clockwork."
"Yep."
"I wonder what they're up to."
Boone snorted.
More silence stretched on, time passed, as it is destined to.
His skin was crawling, feeling too tight over his bones and muscle, he shifted his weight around a bit. "Jeannie May has been acting real twitchy, latel-"
"Manny." Boone knew.
He wiped his mountain and sun away in quick succession, dust particles dancing in the ray of moonlight peeking through. Manny Vargas never had quite the hold on his temper as his friend did (and even he didn't have that great of a hold on his) but being raised as a Khan did that. Nothing else could be the reason why, after all. Standing with his hands on his hips, a healthy distance from the wall this time, Manny stared his friend down, breath coming just a touch too heavy and eyes slightly too narrowed and guarded. "What? Not fucking trying hard enough for you?"
Boone scoffed and his tone was entirely too gentle for the venom he was spitting. "Want me to come back in half an hour, when you got a whole different mood?" The bastard was still in the same position, hand on the back of the stained couch, legs slightly spread and boots angled outwards. Still wearing those sunglasses, even in the dark.
The flames inside him flickered and spat. "The fuck is that meant to mean?" He knew what it meant, knew it was the truth but that didn't mean he had to like it. He wasn't the only one with a bad temper and even badder set of memories.
Boone sighed and stood, looking like a father disappointed in his child.
Manny grabbed Boone's forearm before he reached the door, but didn't dare to move his gaze, only daring to look at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "Wait." The plea came out entirely too desperate than he meant it to, and by the look on Boone's face it made him cringe too. Hell, it wasn't the most embarrassing thing he begged his friend to do before really. "Look, I'm sorry man, I know things are different since..." He looked back at the space that once had his sun and mountain, he regretted wiping it away. "Things are just different now, and I'm lost, it's like I don't recognize you anymore."
"Could say the same to you" Boone whispered, his breath tickled his cheek with how close he was, smelling of something with a chemical taste - the same thing he smelled when they were still green and they met that weird guy at the barracks a bit too relaxed considering the war around him. Craig finished with "Goodnight." afterwards but they both knew it meant 'Let's try again another time.'
Manny didn't even look when the door clicked open and closed, he was alone again. Alone and staring at the couch where Boone sat, where he sat and saw Manny make a complete idiot of himself and gave them more memories in life to look back on and think 'What the fuck was that?'.
And so it goes, the night went on, rusted pipes rattling in the walls, Daisy humming outside as she went up her steps and the weird smell lingering in his nostrils. He lay back down on his creaky mattress and stared at the mold above him again. The question rattled once more before sleep overcame him, dreaming of orange rocky terrain and a bright hot sun. But no snowy mountain.
-
Morning rose. He got up, just like always. Wiping a dry hand down his sweating face. Shrugging on clothes that needed a wash. Tying the toothed necklace that lost its meaning years ago. Pulling on his beret as he reached his door. Monotonous, as usual, but something was different as he stepped out into the humid air.
Ranger Andy wobbled down from the gift shop's steps, Cliff shouting after him his "Be careful!"s and "Watch your step now!"s. Manny ignored the rhythmic sounds of headboard against wall as he passed the yard.
Monotonous.