Noe's Too Drunk to go Home by Himself

When the Burrowgatory Police Department issued the advisory about walking alone at night, Noe wasn’t concerned, really. Don’t get them wrong, the series of murders is concerning. It’s just that they so rarely go out, that it just wasn’t a concern to them. They’d just stay home more now, if anything. It’s a perfect excuse.

It was the perfect excuse. Until an event for his favorite trading card game gets announced to be hosted at a barcade that’s only a few blocks away. Which is fine. Noe would be fine missing it (not really), except there’s an exclusive card that’ll only be available at the event. So, really, he doesn’t have a choice. It’s the event planner’s fault that he’s out of his cozy little apartment while there’s a murderer running around Burrowgatory.

They’re having fun, though. And people keep buying them drinks because they keep winning matches. Noe hasn’t spent a single carat the whole night except to buy food.

The only problem with that is, now that they want to go home, the bartender is holding them hostage. She says Noe can’t leave unless someone takes them home. They’re too drunk and it’s too dangerous. They tried to argue, at first. Their apartment is just down the street, they can get home on their own. Nevermind the fact that they’re swaying while sitting.

But Noe doesn’t want to go home with anyone here. Nobody caught his interest enough for that, he doesn’t even remember any of their names. He tried telling her that, but she still just shook her head. And now she’s practically babysitting him. He’s pouting at the bar, head down, tears clinging to the corners of his eyes. He hears the bartender sigh.

“Don’t you have someone you could call or something?” she asks. She sounds tired, not that Noe cares. He takes a peek at her anyway. Her ponytail has fallen down some, and she really does look tired.

Well, they’re tired too! They could both get rest if she’d just let them leave.

It’s a few moments later when they actually register what she’d asked them. Noe does have someone they could call! They feel a little stupid for not thinking about it at first, honestly, but now that the bartender has mentioned it, they perk up a little. They sit up, wiping the tears from their eyes and fishing their phone out of their pocket.

Declan isn’t the first person in his texts, but that’s only because he takes a million years to respond to his messages. Noe opens up his contact and presses call, sniffling loudly while waiting. It rings four times, and he thinks his call is going to go to voicemail again, before Declan picks up the phone.

“What?” Declan’s voice is crackly, like he’d just woken up. And, really, he might’ve. It is late.

Noe sniffles loudly. “Can you come pick me up?” His words slur together a little bit. He really has had a little too much to drink.

“...What?” There’s some shuffling on the other end of the line. “It’s one in the fucking morning, Noe.”

Their lower lip wobbles. “The bartender won’t let me leave.” Their voice only shakes a little bit when they say it. Honestly, Noe is holding it together so well for how drunk they are.

“Why the fuck—nevermind.” Declan sounds annoyed. Which, to be fair, Noe expected. He’s always annoyed for one reason or another. There’s more rustling on the other end of the line, and it sounds like he might be getting out of bed. “Where are you.” It isn’t a question so much as a demand.

“The barcade on 6th,” Noe answers. They think they hear some mumbling from Declan, but it’s hard to make out what he actually says. And, really, they’re not trying that hard to. They just want him to come pick them up.

There’s a heavy sigh from the other line. “Fine. Don’t move.” That’s the last thing he says before he hangs up on Noe. Which is fine, they just go back to pouting with their head down at the bar.

The bartender comes back over and sets a cup of water down in front of him. “You should drink that,” she says. Noe nods, but he doesn’t really move to follow instructions. She must not care that much, because she doesn’t press him about it anymore.

Noe mopes at the bar for what feels like forever. They eventually stop ignoring the cup of water that the bartender gave them, if only for something to do while they wait. They take small sips and draw pictures in the condensation on the glass. It’s boring in here now, with pretty much everyone having gone on their way, so it’s just them and the bartender now. Noe wonders how much longer they’re going to be waiting here.

Not much, it seems. The door opens, and the bartender perks her head up to say, “Hey, we’re closed—“

“Noe.”

At the sound of Declan’s voice, Noe whips his head around so fast that he feels dizzy. Or maybe he’s been feeling dizzy the whole time. He did have a lot to drink tonight. It doesn’t stop him from stumbling out of the bar stool and rushing to Declan, though. He sways the whole way, the water not having done much to help him at all. Noe latches onto his arm, rubbing his cheek softly against his shoulder. Declan tenses under him, but doesn’t shove him away, so he stays right where he is.

“How drunk are you?” Declan sounds annoyed, like it’s Noe’s fault he had so many drinks when he wasn’t even the one buying them. He just shrugs.

From the bar, the bartender answers instead. “They’ve had at least five drinks. I think the people they were playing against wanted them to get worse, but it didn’t actually affect their gameplay at all.”

Noe giggles. “‘Cuz I’m good! An’ they all sucked.” The bartender shrugs at them and goes back to cleaning. They look up at Declan with watery eyes. “I’m sleepy, an’ I miss my imps. Can we go home now?”

Declan grumbles under his breath, something about being woken up at one in the morning again, but leads them out of the barcade all the same. He’s still tense beneath Noe’s arms, but that’s nothing new. Besides, with everything going on lately, he has every reason to be even more tense as they walk through the night. It’s dark outside in a way that can only happen at almost two in the morning. There are street lamps, of course, but they’ve seen better days and brighter bulbs. It feels like the shadows they cast grow longer the more Noe looks at them, so they look at the ground instead. The late fall chill makes them shiver, and they press a bit closer to Declan, nuzzling against his shoulder again.

“It’s cooold…” Declan doesn’t really respond to his complaining aside from a small grunt.

The remainder of the walk is quiet after that. Despite what Declan may say, Noe actually isn’t particularly chatty. Especially not in the middle of the night on a dark road with murderers running amok. As much as they might like to shut their eyes and just let him lead, they know that isn’t going to get them home any faster. So they keep their head pressed against his shoulder, and try not to look into the shadows of the night. Keeping their eyes on the ground seems to be the safest bet, but even that doesn’t spare them from shadowy movements. Every time the street lamps flicker, their grip on his arm gets a little tighter for a second. Declan’s probably figured out that they’re not just cold.

Despite the heavy feeling and the chill in the air, the walk home is uneventful. Not even a stray imp crosses their path. Still, Noe doesn’t think either of them start to relax until their door is in sight. This is how they imagine seeing the finish line in a race might feel, not that they’d ever participate in one to find out. It gives them an extra boost of urgency, though, and they walk a little faster. It doesn’t seem like Declan minds the speed boost much, either. He just picks up his pace to match.

When they reach his door, Noe finally lets go of Declan’s arm to fish around for his keys. They’re at the bottom of the tote bag he brought to carry his deck in. His hands aren’t quite shaking when he brings them to the lock, but he wasn’t lying when he said he was cold. His fingers feel almost numb turning the keys in the lock. The warmth of his apartment is relieving after the walk through the dark. So is the soft baa that comes from Ophelia as she makes her way over to greet him. He picks her up and buries his face in her soft wool, immediately becoming sleepy. She has that sort of effect on him.

“I’m going home.” Noe startles at the sound of Declan’s voice. It’s not that he forgot he was there, but he was so wrapped up in the moment that it may have slipped his mind. He turns to look at him with watery eyes.

“You don’t wanna stay?” Their voice comes out quiet, almost sleepy now. It won’t take but a few minutes for them to drop off to sleep at this point. It never does.

Declan shakes his head. “No.” They try not to pout, but the look on his face tells Noe that their expression isn’t as schooled as they want it to be. “Night, Noe.” They don’t think they imagine the slight fondness in his tone.

Noe waves Philly’s hoof at him, still pouting a bit. “G’night, Declan.”

He tries not to imagine what sort of trouble Declan might run into on his walk home after he shuts the door. Instead, he focuses on gathering his imps for bedtime. He’s been awake for far too long, and staying up any longer will just make him worry more. Still, as he’s laying in bed with all of his imps, Noe sends Declan a quick text to tell him when he gets home. After that, he slips off into sleep, still clutching at Ophelia’s wool.