Page 52 of Small Sacrifices

A sigh rings out from the other side of the line. "Right, then order the minestrone and ask for some bread on the side. Could you stay to watch him eat it?"

"Yeah, sure." The answer is breezy, like it isn't a big thing to ask. Reid doesn't know what to make of that. He wants to believe that's how Everett feels. But he's been in enough situations where people just pretended it was alright. At some point, the barrel always overflows. Everett will lose patience soon enough.

Reid's phone lies on the carpet between them while Everett orders the soup over the landline. He puts on a voice to do it, charming and warm. Reid rubs his fingers over the loops of the carpet and tries not to let himself think that this is just another piece of evidence pointing towards the conclusion that Everett just pretends a lot.

The phone clicks into the receiver and Everett shifts back into his previous position. "Ten minutes."

Briana hums. "That's quick."

A crooked smile is aimed at Reid. "I think we're not the only ones ordering right now. It's probably already warm."

"It's not fresh?"

Everett laughs. "How fancy do you think this place is? I'd be willing to bet there's at least a microwave involved."

They banter for a bit, and for the first time in hours, Reid feels a small weight lift. It's nice seeing Everett and Briana get along. Everett looks relaxed, and Briana seems to like him. But eventually, Everett clears his throat and shifts.

"So, can I ask what's happening right now?"

Reid closes his eyes again. Of course. Of course he wants to know. And he's even being nice about it. But it's still too much. Tears burn at his lash line.

"Sure, you can ask," he hears his sister say, her voice all steely friendliness. "But you should ask Reid. Tomorrow, when he's alright again."

Bold of her to assume he'll be recovered tomorrow.

"Right," Everett says. "Sorry, Reid."

Reid hums. "'S okay."

Silence descends, but not for too long. Soon enough, someone knocks at the door.

"Room service!"

Fuck. That means he has to move, doesn't it? He can't very well open the door when he's leaning against it.

"Coming!"

Reid winces. God, Everett projects his voice like a theater kid. But it's enough stimulus to get him on his feet. He lets himself be gently pulled aside and watches as Everett slips the person a tip and takes the serving tray.

Reid's mouth waters the second the tray passes the threshold and the scent of broth wafts over to him. His stomach twinges and—oh. Oh, maybe heishungry. Briana always knows best.

Speaking of Briana.

"Is that dinner?" she asks.

"Yup." Everett seems to be at a bit of a loss over where to set down the tray. There’s a small desk, which seems to be where he wants to put it, but Reid is already sitting on the bed. Like hell he's going to sit in a hard chair after the day he's just had. Eventually, Everett seems to realize that too. He sets the tray down like too hard of an impact might make the soup explode and then... sits down next to the bed?

"You can sit on the bed," Reid says.

On the other end of the phone call, Briana snorts. "I'll take that as my sign to go. You gonna be alright, kiddo?"

"Yes." He'd quite like to have the energy to point out that he's not a child anymore. But otherwise, he'll be fine.

"Everett, you'll stay for a bit?"

Everett nods, even though Briana can't see it. "I'll make sure he eats."

There's a sound of shrewd contemplation. "Make sure that's all you do."

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