Misc.

better call saul 9

"you're such a sourpuss, nachito. it's not even just coke. i got this as a- a- what do you call it, regalo, a treat, a buddy here was selling and i thought why not yknow? you ever had crank and blow together? shit- it's intense. you want some?" 

"nah, i'm good. thanks, lalo." nacho said again, not sure if lalo was even listening, or heard him. 

"shit, it's been a while since i've done this. it's like, way more intense than just coke. your loss man, i'm telling you." lalo said, shaking his head at nacho, scooping some up with his pinky nail. nacho didn't ignore the similarities between lalo and tuco. they both tightly squeezed their eyes shut and shook their heads after. nacho noticed how they both shared the same intense look, and he wondered if it was genetic, or just an addict's trait. 

lalo let out a noise that sounded cathartic more than anything. 

"goddamn that never gets old. hey ignacio, wanna go dance? dance with me, nachito, dance with me until the sun comes up and then i'll make us whatever you want for dinner- i meant breakfast- i meant- i'll make you food. whatever you want. dance with me, cabron. dance with me before the Don shoots you in the head like he did to Fring's stupid little fucking queer." lalo laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever said or heard in the world. 

nacho felt something akin to fear bubble in his chest and he frowned at lalo preparing another bump. he swallowed, ready for any sort of backlash he was about to receive.

"hey, man, how- uh- how about you slow down on the speed, okay?" he asked, gently. lalo smirked and shook his head, snorting another dose like it was nothing. 

"no, no, no, ignacio, i'm good, i'm good. promise. i shouldn't have said that thing about fring or whatever, i'm cool, i'm cool. shit dude, you gotta try this." 

"lalo, i'm uh- we still have to head back, yknow? it's almost 3:30." 

"yeah, i know. i told you i'd make you lunch didn't i?" lalo looked at him, his eyes black and dark. he sniffed again, twice and rubbed his nose. "hang on, this is bothering the shit out of me. im gonna go get some paper towel, i'll be right back. don't move, ok? i wanna dance with you." 

lalo clapped nacho on the shoulder and stumbled off to find the bathroom. 

there was a pit in nacho's stomach, and something gnawed from inside his chest. nacho heard lalo tripping into another wall and followed him to make sure he didn't split his head open on a door knob or something. 

around the corner, it was already immediately about ten times quieter than where the heat of the party was happening. eladio's walls muffled the sound of the speakers and noise, and lalo turned when he heard footsteps behind him.

"nachito, i told you, i was cool- just gimme a second-" he said, looking at nacho a few feet away from lalo standing in the doorway of the bathroom.  "i'll just- fuck-" 

suddenly everything began to feel foggy, and lalo felt something trickle down his nose. he sniffed and rubbed it again, annoyed, frowning when the back of his hand came back smeared with bright red. his fingers touched his upper lip and he found them wet with blood. 

"hey- just gimme a sec-" he told nacho, holding out his hand to reassure him. he only realized how much the door frame had been keeping him steady until he let go, and he stumbled, heading head first to the floor. 

"woah, hey, easy." nacho said, suddenly supporting him, guiding him over to the edge of the tub, sitting him down. 

for a brief second lalo had the odd pensive thought that it was fascinating how quickly things stopped being fun. it was almost immediately overshadowed by how badly his head had suddenly started to hurt, and how shitty lalo felt. his heart pounded in his ears and he felt his chest rise and fall way too quickly. for the first time in hours he noticed how badly his hands were shaking, and the blood staining his fingertips made him flinch, as if he thought someone had hit him. his mind started racing, eyes darting over the place. the door was closed. when had they closed the door? was it nacho? nacho? hector? huh? the light- the light was bright, the bright- the bedroom lamp- the bathroom light- a gun- a gun! a gun, there was a gun to his head- no! a gun in his pocket, in the back of his pants, there was a gun in the back of his pants, his pants? he was bleeding. there was blood on his pants? no, on his hand. his hand. his hand, there was blood on his hand. his blood? his blood. 

"nacho turn the light off?" lalo asked. his voice was deeper than he remembered. remembered? fuck he was remembering things? god please no, please not now. maybe more, maybe more? maybe another bump would make this stop. another bump would make it all stop. that would be nice, if it all just...stopped. there was a gun in the back of his pants, after all. 

when lalo reached to grab it, he found nothing there.

maybe that had been another time. another time, god, he, no, no more remembering. his mouth- he tasted iron. he tasted iron like- metal- like- the gun? no. no that wasn't that time. that was that time, this was this time and it wasn't- it was blood. blood, lalo tasted blood. who's blood? his? but- which time was this? was it before or after? the sink was running. definitely after. it was bright, so bright and there was blood in lalo's mouth and, and, and,

"nacho turn the light off!" lalo shouted, rubbing his face, eyes screwed shut. grab the bag in his pocket. another- maybe more- maybe another bump would make it stop. 

"the light is off." nacho said, frowning, wetting a towel in the sink. when he turned and saw lalo sitting on the ground, hyperventilating, going out of his mind, nose running with blood, he rushed over and pressed the towel to lalo's face, supporting his head with his free hand. "hey, can you hear me?" he asked, praying that lalo wasn't about to die right in front of him.  

"can you hear me? lalo!" nacho snapped his fingers in front of lalo's face. "hey, open your eyes. come on man," 

lalo had his arms crossed across his chest, gripping his shoulders, gasping for air, air- air- please- he needed air- he couldnt breathe- he- oh god this was awful this  was so so awful, just, another, maybe, his mouth tasted like wet and iron and, who's? was it? he couldn't remember. he was tired. god he was so so tired. his body was so tired. he was so tired- sleep- he wanted to sleep- please just- let him sleep- body- the iron in his mouth- when- he hadnt slept in- sleeping- he was tired and scared- of sleeping? he couldn't remember. he was scared of- was he scared? why would he be scared? he was going to sleep? he was going to sleep. when he woke up this would all be over. it would all be. it would all be over. 

"lalo? lalo! jesus fucking- lalo!" nacho shouted, pulling the cloth away. lalo's head fell into nacho's shoulder, and nacho had to shift to hold him properly so he didn't slump against the side of the bathtub like some rotting corpse left as a cheap halloween scare.

"shit. shit, shit, shit, shit." nacho said, holding lalo in his arms. now his hands were shaking. fuck. ok. his nose had stopped bleeding. good. nacho pressed two fingers to lalo's neck. he still had a pulse. good. the younger man leaned down and listening to lalo's chest. he was still breathing. 

good. 

maybe he had just passed out. 

hopefully.

nacho varga sat with lalo salamanca in his arms and bit his lip trying not to cry. 

it was nearly 5 in the morning when lalo woke up. there was a shirt draped over him and a towel folded up under his head acting as a pillow. 

nacho sat leaning against the vanity, elbow leaning against his knee, his hand supporting his head. he'd nodded off about twenty minutes ago. 

the party had died down only at the ass crack of morning and it was finally, finally, completely silent. 

lalo groaned and rubbed his face, sitting up. nacho was awake in an instant. 

they were alone in the bathroom and dawn shone soft beginnings of light through the window. only enough to see each other. 

"water." lalo said, voice hoarse and sore. nacho was quick to grab the glass by the sink and give lalo what he wanted. 

"you worried me. last night." nacho said. lalo made a noise and shook his head.

"it's fine."

"i don't-"

"ignacio," lalo said, standing, setting the towel back on the shelf and giving nacho his button down back. he smiled at nacho and it was no longer maniacal. no longer reinforced by hard drugs. just...mischievous, like a cat planning to eat the family pet fish. normal.

"i said it's fine. let's head home, yeah?" 

"yeah." nacho said, sighing. 

lalo splashed some water on his face, smoothed out his moustache, dried his face and left the bathroom like nothing had ever happened.

he would deal with the problems another time. 

perhaps while he was high.