Log: Artie & Matt | Friday shenanigans

[x-daredevil.livejournal.com]

Friday afternoon, Matt and Artie decide to blow this joint and go have fun. And food. They sort of succeed.



Matt liked his noise-proof room, it wasn't perfect, but he was sleeping better than he had in ages and while he still got headaches, they weren't quite like having an ice pick stab his brain repeatedly at the end of every day. His control of his powers hadn't improved in the few days that he had been at Xavier's, but his ability to deal without drugs had improved significantly. He still craved them sometimes, especially around meal times when things got loud as people headed to the kitchen to cook and eat, but it wasn't nearly the unending constant want that it had been.

He was not the most social though outside his classes. There weren't any other freshmen, which actually worked in his favor since he received individualized instruction, which he really did need, especially in math. It also meant that he didn't know most of the other students very well, nor did he make any effort to do so. Sitting on the couch, a book next to his leg, he flipped channels hoping to find NCIS or the Simpsons, both being shows with descriptive video services in them.

Artie had taken to leaving his laptop out in the main room of the suite when he wasn't using it, just in case he had to speak to Matt. He really had to chat to Dr McCoy about getting a smaller version of a text to speech, just in case he like, maybe wanted to speak to his roommate elsewhere. He grabbed an apple and settled at the other end of the couch, slicing off bite-sized pieces of apple and gulping them down as he reached over and typed "Hey," followed by "ooh, hockey. Want to leave it on that?"

What did Matt care about hockey? "I'm looking for NCIS. Or the Simpsons," Matt answered, not bothered that Artie had joined him, but still thinking it was damn weird for the two of them to be roommates. "Do you know like...sign language and all that?" he asked, making conversation. He had to live with Artie, he might as well get to know him a little.

"Cool. NCIS has like, explosions and stuff and that's always cool when it's you know, fake on TV. Way less so IRL." Artie sighed slightly at the sign language question. "Yeah - I go to another school half the time so I actually get to speak my language and get a translator sometimes in my classes here. But it's not like most ppl here know any, you know?" He paused, thinking that he'd also better get to know his new roommate. "Do you have, like, family and stuff, back home?"

Yeah, NCIS was way cool, "It also has descriptive stuff, so I can watch and understand what's happening," Matt replied, stopping on a channel to listen. It sounded right so he left it on. The descriptive stuff would come on automatically since he had gotten it turned on, "That sucks. I had a VI teacher with me for all my classes, to help me and stuff," Matt understood what that was like to have to go somewhere else and all that. "I don't have one here, but I'm the only freshman so I don't think it really matters."
"Yeah, I was the only one in my year sometimes, too. Sucks."

Artie's question about his family made Matt sigh internally, "No. This is home. At least until I get kicked out and sent somewhere else."

Ooops. Bad question, then. "You too, huh? Well, it's not so bad when the teachers or grads don't go crazy and we haven't had SF's invade for ...years now," Artie typed.

"SF's?" Matt asked, not knowing what that was. "Eh, I've had..." he paused to think, "four placements in two years. Not counting this one. And not counting a couple side trips to visit New York's finest."

"SF = special forces. You know, commandos. They come in, shoot the place up, kidnap the kids? Leave bullet holes in the walls for months? Also, damn, that sucks." On the TV, meanwhile, Gibbs was berating his team about something.

"Dude," Matt didn't move, but it was clear that Artie had his attention, not the TV. "They did what here? Are you fucking kidding me? 'Cause that shit ain't funny!"

Artie took a moment to type, "Twice. And then there was the time Jamie went crazy and Nathan went crazy and the time Arcade kidnapped like half the students and tried to kill them and then there was there that time a crazy man locked us in a park full of attack dinosaurs and then, once Amanda went all magic addiction and then there's everything happened at graduation last year. They told you this place was safe, didn't they?" He took a perverse pleasure in giving this speech to newbies. Hell, he'd been there for so many of the events.

"I wanna go back to juvie now," Matt replied, dead serious. "Wanna help me gank a car?"

"And, what, drive it for you? I'm on probation still after getting in a fight. Anyway, Doug'd never stop laughing if I got busted stealing a car. Anyway, it's not like anything real bad has happened for a couple of years now. Except for graduation."

Sticking his tongue out at Artie, Matt didn't like conceding that point. He didn't know how to drive though. Or how to steal a car. "Probation like, arrested or probation like someone here will be pissed?" Matt asked. These things were important to know. He was on probation too, but it was of the random drug testing talk to a probation officer regularly sort of thing.

"Like, Scott video conference me from California explaining why he's that disappointed. Not police probation - I don't think I've ever been arrested, since I think one of Annalee's rules was I had to run like hell if she thought there were police around." Artie shrugged. "Look, I can drive so, wanna take one of the cars, get outta here for a while?"

"Um..." Matt paused, unsure, "I dunno if I can. I'm on probation," he explained, "Like...police probation. I got arrested again a few weeks ago," he shrugged and turned off the TV, setting the remote down, "What the hell? Lemme get my shoes."

"We won't get caught. Duh." And hell, it wasn't like his English assignment was even due till tomorrow afternoon. "You know, we're going going to be screwed if I run out of laptop battery." He dumped the remains of the apple in the bin and the knife in the dirty cutlery basket next to the sink before tugging his own shoes on and grabbing coat and wallet and phone.

"We'll deal," Matt called back, sitting on his bed and tying his shoes. Grabbing his wallet and cane, he was ready to go. Pausing at the door, he turned around and headed to the bathroom, then emerged a minute later, "Okay, now I'm ready," he had put earplugs in his ears. That helped a little. Not enough, but some. "We better not get arrested. We do, I am blaming you. Completely." Not that anyone would believe him given his arrest record, but the sentiment was there.

"We won't. Trust me." Artie closed the laptop and headed for the stairs.

Matt was a few paces behind his roommate, able to navigate the main hallways and such with ease even after only a few days. When they got down to the main floor though, Matt paused, slowing down as he wasn't very familiar with the way to the garage and not wanting to trip or something. "Artie?" he called, making sure his roommate was still nearby. He could hear him, but that didn't mean anything since he could hear a lot of things.

Oh, crap. Artie tapped his foot for a moment and flipped the laptop open. "Want desc. of what u might run into or just grab my shoulder?" This whole laptop thing suuuucked.

Matt didn't answer, he just used the tapping sound to find Artie, then grabbed the boy's shoulder. He was a few inches shorter than Matt, which was a little odd since Matt was the younger of the two, but once he was ready, he said, "Okay. Just walk and lead me. I'll be okay," he was also still using his cane since Artie couldn't warn him of steps or anything.

Artie flinched slightly as Matt grabbed his shoulder and nodded, heading into the garage and snagging the keys to one of the less flashy cars as he went past, unlocking the car using the remote clicker as he walked.

It was hard not to notice that Artie flinched, but Matt didn't comment on it. He didn't like being touched much either, there was just no way to get around it when you were blind. And holding on to his shoulder wasn't all that bad, it wasn't even that tight. When they got to the car, Matt let go of Artie, using his hand to find the door handle easily and getting in. "So...where are we going. And...shit..." he paused, realizing something, "You can't type and drive. And I can't drive. Okay. Gimme your hand," this worked for people who were blind and deaf, they could make it work for them.

Artie blinked at that and shrugged, whatever. Good thing he'd gone for an automatic, rather than a stick shift. He hit the ignition, backing out of the garage before letting go of the wheel with his right hand, handing it over to Matt.

"Okay. So..." Matt tried not to think about the fact that he was holding another dude's hand in a less than manly way, "I'll give you options. You give me the number of fingers to correspond. Make sense? One: Are we going to get food? Two: Are we going to get something else? Three: Are we going no where?"

Oh Jesus. He was teaching Matt to finger spell when they got back. One finger, pause, two, pause.

Okay, so...food and something else. Matt wasn't even going to try to guess what else. Releasing Artie's hand, he leaned forward and began to push buttons to see what was on the radio. This car was newer than his social workers, or at least in better repair. The vibration wasn't nearly so bad.

Artie pulled up in front of a liquor store in Chappaqua a few minutes later. It was just far enough away from Westchester that the Xavier's kids weren't immediately recognizable. He picked up the laptop again and typed, "Want to try to get some beer? I do good fake ID. Or we can just grab burgers."

Less than a week out of rehab for addiction to pain killers plus a father who was an alcoholic and Artie wanted to get beer? "Absolutely." Matt agreed, getting out. "The sunglasses and being blind helps," he added. Plus, he was tall enough to be full grown. Getting out of the car, he moved around to wait for Artie so he could guide him.

Artie pulled an old library card out of his pocket and took a moment to recover it with a State of Delaware driver's license that promised that no, really, Matt was 21 and handed Matt a twenty, along with the ID.

Shoving the money in his pocket, Matt followed Artie inside. The smell of the place was familiar, it not a little cleaner. He'd found his dad in plenty of bars that smelled like this, then helped him home and to bed as a kid. "Budweiser," he said to Artie, indicating what they should get.

He led the way into the store and picked up a six pack of Bud, trying to look like a helpful boy, out with his blind older brother. Who obviously couldn't carry the beer, what with needing to be led and having a cane in the other hand.

Heading to the counter with the case, he showed the man his ID trusting Artie to do his whatever, then handed him the crumpled up $20.

The guy glanced at his ID, then looked over at Artie, "ID, son?" he asked.

Artie gave a cheerful smile and made a show of pulling out his wallet, holding it so that the guy couldn't see while he slipped a second illusion over his own license. He, too, now had a State of Delaware card calling him Aaron Murdock and saying he was a month older than Matt. He pulled it out and held it out.

"Brother's, eh?" he asked, looking at both IDs. "A month older than the other?" he snorted, "I was born at night kids, but not last night. Go home. And stay the hell out of here!" He did at least make sure that Matt had his money back.

Oops. This was probably when he ought to mention that he was failing math. Artie led the way back to the car, ears burning.

Outside, Matt slapped Artie upside the head, "Dumbass," he pronounced. "Seriously. You are too dumb to get booze. And that's impressive."

Artie shrugged, unlocking the car to pull out his laptop. "What, you think he'da believed me if I said I was 22? You were already using my stock ID and DOB. I had think fast. Mr Helpful."

Sighing, Matt got back in the car, "One day, we'll go into the city and I know a woman who's got a bar. She'll serve us," well, she'd serve him. But she'd probably serve Artie too, if he paid and all that. "You just keep your mouth shut and don't try to give any fake ID bullshit."

"Hey, the place in the city believes my fake ID!" Artie typed before getting back into the car.

"Uh huh," Matt would have to see that to believe it. "Well, Josie don't care about my ID. She knows who I am. She'll serve me."

"Really? We are so going there one day," Artie replied. "Anyway, want to get burgers or something, anyway?"

Well, Josie had served his father and in more than one way. He was pretty sure she'd serve him too, at least alcohol. She was a little old and worn for him to be interested in more, plus, he really did not want his father's sloppy seconds. "Yeah. Food is good. Burgers or whatever. I'm easy like that. Just nothing too spicy."

"Yeah, I know a good diner," Artie said. "And you know, sometime, I'm going to teach you like, Morse code and finger spelling so that we don't have to do that stupid hand holding thing anymore." Because, nothing against Matt but Artie didn't want to be sitting there holding hands or anything. Especially not when the other boy was probably going to mock him forever about the fact that he was too dumb to buy beer.

It was the best Matt had been able to come up with on short notice! And it had worked! "I can't see finger spelling dumbass," Matt reminded his roommate. Duh.

"I don't think you have to see it, you dick. Different hand shapes, right? So you'll feel the diff. for most letters, anyway. Or we can just drive in total silence." Artie sighed.Roommate logistics. But, hey, at least he wasn't stealing a label maker to tape brailled "Artie" to all his oranges: he'd resorted to a permanent marker with Leong, toward the end.