infomodder | ic contact 2 mask or menace

[Mike watches Will gather his stuff out of the corner of his eye and then faithfully goes back to giving eye contact to the kitchen appliances.]

Didn't mean 'cause of you. Meant 'cause of people out there. [He tips his head in the direction they came. Outside people.] Always keep one on me 'cause of people out there. And just didn't think to leave it in the car.

I wouldn't hurt you no matter what you did. Your family, either. [Well.] Except Jeff. I won't kill him, but I might bite him someday. You know, while I'm a dog.

[Will has just put things back on the counter in easy reach of Mike when the exception of Jeff hits. He actually laughs. Not at Mike, never. Amusement, he's in on the joke. Not really, he has no idea what's brought them together exactly, but. "In" enough to appreciate it.]

If Jeff comes limping back with a dog bite in need of treatment, that's all he'll get. [No secrets will be spilled, he's got Mike's back there. Assuming Mike hasn't been up front about that particular power with Jeff, of course. If he has been then. Well. Jeff will be singing a different tune when he limps back, no doubt.] I hope Jeff living here won't discourage you from stopping by more often now you know where to go.

[Where he can get away from those damn outside people.]

[Mike's a little relieved when Will laughs. So Will understands why a man might want to turn into a dog and bite Jeff Winger. He's aware of Jeff's... Jeffness. That's good.

But then it comes to the other subject. Mike scuffs his foot against the floor.]

I'm... gonna be busy for a while. Gonna... have a lot to do. [Can't stop by, super busy!!] What do you think about... lookin' after the dog for me?

[Pretends him walking out with that dog was ever an option in an attempt to distract Will. Look, Will, a dog in need!]

[Ah, Mike, and his mysterious super business. Will doesn't look put out or anything, but he has to wonder. What does it mean? What does the stopping by but then no he's too busy to stop by more often all mean? Does it go back to that time he impersonated Will while he was gone...? Hm.

Then there's a dog in need and yeah, that gets his focus.]

I can do that. [As if there was ever a question whether or not Will would take in another dog, pssh. Mike could stop by once a month with a new dog and the answer would be the same.] We got plenty of room. Food and all that. No problem, we'll take her as long as you want us to.

[Forever? Forever is good.]

[Forever and ever.]

Thanks.

[He points back to the map and all its red circles.]

Money. If you're ever in a tight spot and need some cash.

[Just go digging around in Virginia. One less mystery.]

[Will looks from Mike's finger to the map. Then back, like he's clearly missed where he's pointing him to. Like he has trouble believing what he's hearing. Not because Mike is a liar, no, just...the idea of it. Does he want to know where the money's come from? Probably not.

After a few moments of confusion wherein Will obviously has no idea what to say, he defaults to this little thing known as politeness.]

Thank you. [Quiet, genuine despite the wondering why behind it all.] Little Fluffy Shithead help you dig holes?

[It's a cute image, okay.]

[Maybe dog catching became a super lucrative business all of a sudden!!!

Mike nods the customary you're welcome nod.]

Nah. She watched me some, but I kept her tied up to trees away from the holes 'cause I didn't want to fill up a hole and then not be able to find her and have to dig up the hole again to make sure she wasn't in there.

[He says it so seriously. Like, yeah, accidentally burying the dog and not knowing he'd done it was a real concern.

Mike reaches not for the gun or the leash but the coffee he set aside.]

I lied to you before.

[Truth-telling hour.]

[Good God, that's a horrifying thought. Accidentally burying the tiny princess, Mike no. Will's muted horror shifts into something like surprise, eyebrows lifting as his lips purse.]

...lied to me about what?

[Sincerely curious, nothing else. No offense, no anger. And judging by the otherwise relaxed body language, none of that is to come.]

[Nonchalant coffee sip.]

My death. It was a one. No shootout, no car chase, no explosions. Guy I'd been friends with since we were kids drove me out into the woods and killed me.

[Hopes Will feels better about his four. And... whatever number the latest death gets...]

[...oh.

Will lowers his cup first, giving Mike his full attention. Once the real horror of it all sinks in, he sets it back on the counter and runs a hand over the back of his neck as a hamster in a rodent ball joins them. The hamster will roll right into Mike's feet, bounce off, and then continue out if Mike leaves him be.]

Christ. [When words fail, swear. Mike understands that sort of politeness.] How do you figure that classifies as a one?

[Since it sounds like a damn horrible nightmare to most people, doesn't it? Childhood friend murdering them? That's sheer terror.]

[Mike's eyes follow the hamster. That sure is a fuzzy rodent thing in a rolly ball. Will gets an extra look. Why this, Will? Why is your house like a clown car, only with a wide variety of animals instead of clowns?]

It's definitely not a cool death. [Dumb to cool, getting murdered by your bro in the woods is solid dumb. But...]

Maybe a two. Could have been more dumb. Could have been like a dumb accident. Trip on somethin'... [Maybe a fuzzy rodent thing in a rolly ball.] ... Fall and die.

[Yeah, that's less cool than death by friend hug.]

[Because April was sad one day so Will bought her hamsters. This was the most rational and romantic thing to do, obviously.

Dumb. Mike considers his death dumb, just a step above falling down the stairs or passing out in the bathtub. For a man who made his last act one of the most anticlimactic murder/suicides he could think of, that gets at him. Under his skin. Will hadn't minded dying in ways that people could look at and go "okay?" And he doesn't consider that sort of betrayal dumb at all.

He's been on both sides of it.

Will glances at the hamster after Mike does, worries his bottom lip between his teeth a few seconds after Mike finishes, and nods his head once.

Then he goes to the fridge and withdraws a nice beer, pulling out a bottle opener from the drawer next to it. Not gas station or convenience store beer, something a step up. Didn't cost an arm and a leg but it ain't cheap shit.

The lid pops up in a fluid, polished movement. Will has opened beer bottles before.

Without asking or any hesitation, he extends that bottle directly to Mike.

Drink to his death, drink to the truth coming out, doesn't matter.

This calls for a Goddamn drink.]

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