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Jackie: After falling asleep on the couch (or maybe more so against the couch, and eventually making his way onto the cushions when Leech prods him to do so), Tim can only rest for a few hours before he's up and anxious, trying to remain quiet and still in fear of waking Leech. But his attempts are futile and he unfortunately wakes the older boy, who suggests they make their way to the mountains-- which is fine by Timothy, since that means he can avoid the car ride with the rest of the group. After sneaking into his room to pack a bag and grab his guitar, they're on the road before the sun starts to break over the horizon. Sleepily looking out the window, the mountains begin to appear, larger and larger as they continue to drive, and Tim talks through a yawn as Leech drives. "How much longer 'til we're there?"


Jay: Leech doesn't truly begin waking up until they're high enough in the Berkshires that snow is piled on either side of the road. At least he managed to pack before getting to sleep, and had the presence of mind to leave Kellen a note when they left early, because the boy's surely bound to be confused by Leech's absence. Currently bundled in a hoodie as well as that leather jacket, the same knee-high boots as yesterday under his jeans, Leech also has the heater in his car on as they ascend towards the lodge reserved for the school trip. He blinks sleepily at Tim's question, looking even more braindead than blank, as is his usual m.o. "Ahh...not long, I think. How long've I been driving?" He glances at the clock on the dash, but his attention is drawn rapidly away by the elk that is crossing the narrow road leisurely, just ahead.


Jackie: Tim is burrowed into his own clothing, clutching his pillow to his chest like a toddler would do to a stuffed animal. Taking another yawn, he pushes his face into that pillow almost comically as he waits for that yawn to pass before answering. "Little more than three hours, I think." Now that the sun is peeking in through the trees and mountains, it reflects into the car and shines on the both of them. Noticing how tired Leech is, Tim turns his head to rest it sideways on that pillow, facing the driver's seat. "Sorry...for keeping ya up, and stuff. You look exhausted."


Jay: Leech eases to a stop as he waits for that elk to pass; thankfully, the beast doesn't just sit in the road like a cow. He nods as he watches the creature move with glazed eyes. "Yeh, nearly there, then. Think I saw a sign a little way back." It's a good thing he memorizes directions with one telling, or they might be hopelessly lost. When Tim apologizes, Leech looks over at him, too tired to hide his surprise, then snorts derisively. "Exhaustion's a pretty constant thing fer me, don' mention it." He accelerates carefully, now that the elk is gone, rambling on thoughtlessly. "When ya got dorm checks at one in the morning and classes at seven-thirty, not to mention bein' woken up at all hours by kids being caught fighting er fucking er tryin' to escape, a solid night of sleep is a rarity." There's another sign, this one bigger, and it directs traffic for the Moose Drool Lodge to the right, so Leech follows that instruction.


Jackie: Tim kind of makes a face for that description, rethinking all of his past activities that have wound up with him in front of Leech's door in the middle of the night. That has certainly stopped this year, mostly because Tim doesn't see the punishments as worth while, and he mentally makes note to at least try to not make things more complicated for Leech in the future. Squishing his pillow a bit to mold more for his head, he tries to stifle another yawn, his blinks becoming more and more extended. "You don't ever get a day off, do you?"


Jay: Tim's almost-yawns are contagious, and probably a road hazard, so Leech pops his neck and straightens his spine in an attempt to be more awake and aware. He shakes his head, negating the question. "Sometimes. I go home fer the weekends when there isn' anything pressing to do at the school, and I can take some holidays off. And during summer, I'm hardly there at all; they got a group of priests-in-training that watch the place then. Oh, but you'd know that." He shakes his head, carefully navigating the winding road up to the lodge. It's not quite high enough to be a real ski resort, though there are a few small chair lifts behind the large main building, which is predictably done like a giant log cabin. A few of the smaller cabins where they'll be staying, which are also used as a summer camp in the off-season, are barely visible through the pines and aspens that cluster on every side of the cleared runs.


Jackie: Closing his eyes but not actually sleeping, Tim sighs a little into that pillow as he listens to Leech, making an agreeing noise for that last part; the summers he's spent at school has been awful, if only because there's hardly anyone around except for those priests. "Boston's home?" It's asked kind of lazily, mostly due to tiredness, and Tim only blinks open his eyes and shifts more into a normal sitting position when the car slows and they pull up to the resort. It's quite picturesque, and Tim almost looks appreciative-- it certainly beats the farm they stayed at last time.


Jay: Leech nods at the question, but doesn't elucidate yet. He parks in front of the bigger lodge, but leaves the car running. "I'll be back in jus' a sec." Going inside, he explains that he's the vanguard for St Ulric's, and receives keys for his own particular cabin, along with a schedule showing when the lifts run, when meals are offered, and what few entertainments the place has running. The mention of a 'country-and-western gospel ho-down' after dinner on Thursday makes him shudder, which turns to shivering in the short trip back to the car. Crawling in, he tosses the itinerary into Tim's lap and follows the brief directions to find their cabin. Unfortunately, there isn't a drive right up to it, but Leech parks as close as possible before starting to drag his bags from the tiny back seat.


Jackie: Moving that pillow away from his lap, Tim instead shoves it behind his head, nodding vaguely for Leech's words as he leans back into the softness and recloses his eyes. He almost falls asleep like that, but then that door is opening and Leech is back in the car, and Tim belatedly grabs at that itinerary before it falls to his feet. Not bothering to look at it, since he doubts his eyes could focus on the words, Tim wills himself to not dose off and looks the slightest bit relieved when they pull up to their cabin. Tucking that pillow under his arm, and grabbing his guitar and duffel bag (which definitely took up more space in the back seat and kind of made Tim feel guilty), he makes his way to the cabin and enters after Leech, immediately peering around. With no fire roaring in the corner, it's fairly cold in the cabin and Tim uses his foot to close the door behind himself. "We're all in this one, right?"


Jay: Leech's bag indeed doesn't take up much room, being simply a backpack (bright pink at one time, but faded now, and scrawled with also faded sharpie scribblings), but he has an acoustic guitar and a spare pillow and blanket, too. Trying to arrange his belongings to carry them, he ends up with the blanket around his shoulders, the fluffy striped pattern an odd contrast to his beat-up leather. Reaching the cabin, he drops bag, pillow, and blanket, but sets the guitar down more carefully. He heads instantly for the large fireplace, thankful that there's already a stockpile of wood for it. "Yeh, 's you, Ness, and White. And me. There's another room with a couple'a bunkbeds, and I think that couch converts, so I'll prolly sleep there." Kneeling fluidly in front of the grate, he starts piling logs into it, starting with small ones.


Jackie: Nodding for that, Tim's eyes scan around the cabin before locating a door that presumably leads to that bedroom. He resituates the items in his arms, in a vague attempt to make them easier to carry, but by the time he's in that bedroom, he practically drops the items at the far bottom bunk. Kicking his duffel under the bed, he snags his pillow and heads back out to the main room, kind of pausing at the entrance because he isn't all that sure if Leech wants him there. Presumably, he wants to curl up and go to bed-- so Tim just hovers, looking like a lost toddler.


Jay: From appearances, Leech could use some help. He has the logs in the fireplace, and he's striking matches and burying the burgeoning flames amongst the logs, but they die quickly since there's no kindling or newspaper or anything that would catch more easily than solid hard wood. After about seven matches, Leech stops - unaware that he's being observed - and glowers at the would-be fire, like threatening it will work, probably muttering under his breath, before trying, and failing, another time.


Jackie: Tim watches Leech attempt to light a fire, and if he wasn't so fucking depressed at the moment, he's probably smirk in amusement. As it is, he tosses the blanket and pillow onto that futon and then goes back to his room, digging into his duffel to snag his notepad and rip out a few pieces of paper for kindling. When he reenters the main room, he isn't as cautious as before; instead, he walks up to the fireplace and offers the slightly crumpled up papers to Leech, and then crouches down a bit. "Here. Should help a little."


Jay: Leech looks up at Tim with an expression that would be totally unremarkable on anyone else, but for Leech, is pathetically pleading. Taking the offered papers, he looks uncertainly towards the grate, then back to Tim. And since it seems the kid is informed better than he is, he just hands the crumpled paper back and scoots out of the way. "Y'know, all the years I lived on the streets, I never once had to build a fire?"


Jackie: Snorting for that look (which doesn't come off as abrasive in the least, maybe more like amusement), Tim settles down onto the floor, scooting closer to the grate. Crumpling up the papers, he starts to stuff them under the logs, and then works to reorganize those logs in a fashion that will help with consistent burning. He obviously learned something during last spring break's camping trip. Working on that positioning, he kind of tilts his head a bit, taking in that information and storing it in the back of his mind. "Before you worked at St. U's?"


Jay: Too tired to think about diverting the question, Leech just nods. "Yeh, but long before, not right before. When I was younger." He pauses, yawning wide and covering it with one of those thin, long-fingered hands, then continues - like in the car - because he's not aware or sharp enough to watch his words, or care about anything he might say. "First when I was eleven, but that was only fer a few weeks, then again when I was thirteen. Til I was sixteen."


Jackie: Once he's happy with the log positioning, Tim takes the abandoned matches and strikes two at a time, holding the burning ends near the paper stuffed under the wood. Once it gets too hot to hold, he drops them only to repeat the process with two more matches, this time igniting the other side of logs and paper carefully. Leech's words singe into his insides, a familiar feeling of sympathy, but it doesn't show in his eyes for the brief moment he glances at Leech. "That's...rough." Retracting his hand, the paper is now fully engulfed, and the wood is taking to the fire slowly. "Real rough. How'd you get out of that?"


Jay: He watches with appreciation as the smaller branches and logs start slowly to catch with Tim's encouragement, leaning back and propping himself on a palm. "Ahh, it wasn' so bad, really. Better than the foster homes, at least. 's how I met Duster, too." Because he remembers belatedly that they visited Duster last night, so Tim will have some referrence. He digs a pack of smokes from his pocket and flips the lid back one-handed, taking a cigarette filter between his teeth to draw it out. After using one of the matches to light it, he tosses the pack in Tim's direction. "The first time I got picked up, fer stealing from a convenience store, and once the cops figured out who I was - I wouldn't tell em anything - they shipped me out to an orphanage." Probably he's realized by now that this is more personal information than he'd usually share, but some part of him thinks it might be encouraging to Tim.


Jackie: When he's sure the fire is established, Tim scoots back from the grate, watching the little flames start to engulf the logs. It doesn't take long for the fire to grow in size, and then it maintains itself to a decently sized flame-- big enough to offer the two boys warmth. He nods a little bit for Leech's words, appreciative for them since they don't make him feel quite as hopeless. "I can imagine foster homes being a mess. Can't ever really feel like a home." Much like St. U's. Plucking a cigarette out, Tim shoves it into his mouth and lights it in a fluid motion, tossing the match into the fire once he's done



Jay: Leech hums in agreement, peering around the room. There are terrible paintings on the walls, of snow scenes with children making snowmen, and he makes a note to cover them later, like he's in mourning. Right now, it's almost too much effort to crawl onto the futon-couch, but he does so, and once he's on the cushions, he's glad for it. He sinks back against them, drawing on his smoke. "'specially the ones willing to take in older orphans. Most of em do it for the money the state pays, so they got quite a few fosters all in one little house. Either that, or they do it because it means they can have kids around no one cares about, so they can make 'em do whatever they want - or do whatever they want with em. I went through three different ones, before I blew 'em off and went back to the streets."


Jackie: Sticking near that fire, since he doubts there's enough comfortable space on that futon for the two of them, Tim ashes his cigarette into the fireplace in between inhales. Again, Leech's words make his nose wrinkle and he shakes his head, looking off to the side since the thought alone disgusts him. "So how'd you get to St. U's?" Perhaps he's stock piling this information, should he find himself in a similar situation over the course of the next year, and when he fixes his eyes to Leech's, the blue in them intensifies the slightest bit.


Jay: Oh, there's plenty of room; Leech doesn't occupy much real estate anywhere. He ashes his cigarette carelessly on the floor, keeping his gaze focused on the fire. That question makes him a little reluctant, but after an extended moment of silence during which he gnaws his cheek, he finally answers, voice more cautious and controlled. "When I left - when I was sixteen, I left the place where I was staying - I got picked up by the cops, again. Since I was older, and I already had a history of bailing, they sent me to the school instead of another foster place er orphanage." He pauses for another drag, relaxing some now that that memory is past. "I managed to get out a while later, but when I came back to Boston a couple'a years ago, the place was hiring. Y'know it's hell to find people willing to teach there; Jefe wasn't inclined to turn me down."


Jackie: There may be room, but Tim probably doesn't have the cajones to join Leech, yet. When he isn't taking a hit from his cigarette, that hand is picking distractedly at his bandaged knuckles, eyes focusing on that as Leech grapples for a response. He only nods, since he can tell from the way Leech is speaking that the subject isn't very comfortable to discuss. Raising his cigarette to his lips, he inhales once again and then exhales through his nose. "Makes sense." He pauses, obviously referring to how difficult it is to hire staff for the school. "Not like the students are easy to deal with, I imagine."


Jay: Finally drawing his eyes away from that fire, he looks at Tim and gives a little, wry smirk. "Some more than others." And then he has to yawn, covering his mouth as he does. "Fuck me dead. I'm so damn tired." Just sort of flopping to the side, he reaches over the armrest to snag his pillow, tossing it onto the couch, then draws up his blanket, too. Then he sets about the involved business of unlacing his boots enough to get them off, taking a good four minutes before he can draw his little Leechfeet, in their pink-and-black striped socks, up under himself. The jacket and hoodie are discarded next, in favor of wrapping the blanket around himself, and he leans against the arm of the couch, looking quite cozy with his eyelids drooping.


Jackie: Tossing the rest of his cigarette into the fire, Tim tries (and probably fails) to give a little smile for Leech's first statement, and then runs a hand across his face tiredly. A cold shiver runs through his body, since the fire hasn't heated up the whole room quite yet, so he crawls over to the futon to snag that blanket, wrapping it around himself burrito style and then grabbing that pillow, as well. In doing so, it clears up some more space for him to occupy, and he doesn't bother asking Leech if it's all right because it looks cozy, he's cold, and quite frankly he doesn't want to sleep entirely alone. Climbing onto the piece of furniture, he snuggles down into his little cove and yawns, nodding his head. "Sorry I got ya up so early."


Jay: Leech doesn't object to Tim joining him on the couch, merely shifts a little to give him more space. And again, he dismissed the apology. "'s fine. The rest'a the school's only just gettin ready to leave, so I think I can manage a few hours before I gotta function." Sitting up some, he searches the side of the couch, and then the top, finally finding a latch that will allow it to convert. Depressing it, he leans his shoulder into the couch back, and looks over at Tim. "ey, press on that side. It oughta jus' flip down." Which it does, once Tim engages the action on his side, the cushion beneath them lifting some and then sliding towards the fire as the back flattens down to create a single mattress, a little smaller than a queen bed.


Jackie: Tim can only manage a soft nod for that as he gets lost in a yawn, pressing back into the side of the couch to help convert it into a futon. Once it's collapsed down, Tim stretches out the tiniest amount, folding up onto his tummy and hugging his pillow (mindful of the tattoo, of course). Burrowing his face into his pillow, he mumbles some sort of 'good night' before practically collapsing into the comfort of rest.


Jay: Leech squirms around a little bit once the futon is in place, curling up on his side facing Tim and making himself a burrito with the fluffy blanket. He returns Tim's 'goodnight' with only a noise, and before he relaxes completely, throws a cursory look at the fire, making sure the screen covers it so that it won't catch the cabin afire, because that would be a most unpleasant way to wake up. His last thought before falling asleep is probably how weird it feels, not having seen his brother in nearly a whole day.