Freddy wakes up to the quiet sound of late night television. It's familiar and content until pain reaches through the fog and stabs him in the stomach. He groans and when Larry's hand rests on Freddy's cheek, Freddy nuzzles into the touch. "You're okay, kid," Larry's voice is clear and comfortable.

Larry comes into focus- shirtless and real and smiling and gorgeous and betrayed. "I'm sorry, Larry, I'm sorry..." It doesn't hurt to talk the way it hurts when he's sick, but it isn't easy in the slightest.

Larry just shushes him. "Here," Larry says, and puts a bottle to Freddy's lips. Freddy is expecting the sting of bourbon, but the ice cold water that comes is like a gift from heaven. Freddy feels revived.

The last thing he remembers is calling after Larry as Pink lead White away. He remembers the certainty of death and a pain that began to numb his brain until everything went black.

"What happened?" Freddy turns his face into Larry's palm and brings a weak hand to Larry's hip. He wants to be held. Larry obliges, trying not to jostle Freddy too much as he cradles him in his arms.

"We were gonna wait for Joe, but you were such a mess that we went to him instead. We gotta a nurse, she patched you up, and then I took you took a doctor." Larry has that sad tinge in his voice he had at the mortuary, when he was trying to cheer up Freddy.

"No cops?" Freddy winces at his own words. The knowledge that Larry could still find out the truth is so hard to digest that Freddy pushes it to the very back of his mind for know. It's obvious by the care he's giving him that Larry doesn't know shit about Freddy.

"Mr. Blonde led them on a wild goose chase I think, after we left, but I haven't heard anything about it. He made a real mess of the place when we brought Bonnie to you. Asshole. Eddy made him promise to take care of it, but how can he trust him?" Larry sighed. Freddy could feel it, pressed up against Larry's strong chest. "Well, who gives a shit, now? Joe will get a hold of us in a few days with our cut and..." Larry brought a hand to Freddy's face and rubbed his thumb across Freddy's lips. Freddy kissed it. "...Then we can decide what we're gonna do."

"Okay." Freddy wants to agree wholly. He wants to run off with Larry; has since day one. It's that adventurous kid in him, the one that wanted to be a cop, and then not happy with that, wanted to go undercover. The danger loving part of Freddy wants to be in control. The safe, sensible Freddy, as small and weak as he know is, knows he needs to call Holdaway as soon as possible.

But it can wait till tomorrow, right? It's the middle of the night, and Larry is looking at Freddy like he won't let him go, and Freddy hurts and though he's slept forever, he wants to do it some more, if only because Larry will be here to sleep with him.

Freddy just wants one more day where Larry still think he's perfect.