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[lastgunslinger]

The door to Room 99 opens.

Roland goes to the Really Big TV that's against the wall, CDs in hand, and kneels.

"Sit wherever."

His tobacco pouch, with papers and leaf, is on the table between the two chairs by the window, if Cuthbert wants to avail himself.

Comments

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert takes one of the chairs by the window and rolls himself a cigarette, glancing with idle curiosity at the TV.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland fiddles with the electronics. Cuthbert might notice, if he cared to, the white box sitting by the DVD player.

It has Joe on it.

He puts in Disc 2 of The Essential Bob Dylan, and presses the button to get it to shift to track 3.

Acoustic guitar fills the room; a voice that is in tune, but doesn't have much else going for it, soon follows.

"I Shall Be Released".

Roland settles back in the other chair, listening. Smiling slightly.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert notices, and for a moment, his hand stills with the cigarette halfway to his lips.

I've seen his movies, Eddie had said the first time Bert mentioned Joe to him.

For a moment, it looks as though he might say something--but when the music starts, he simply settles back in his chair.

There's a sidelong glance, and a brief grin at the memory of the party, and Roland singing this. Singing it better than whoever this is, at that.

[lastgunslinger]

And Roland looks at Cuthbert. It's a touch sly.

"Sounds kind of like you."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert eyes him.

"Mayhap, but I at least don't inflict my singing on others." Pause. "Well, not on strangers, anyway."

[lastgunslinger]

"He's better than you are."

Song four begins. Silence, now. Roland rolls himself a cigarette.

Song four ends.

Song five begins.

Roland's mouth is dry.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert's hand freezes again, for a long moment.

Then, he swallows hard.

"Not as good as Des, though."

Though Desmond hadn't been there, the last time they sang this one.

[lastgunslinger]

Low: "Nobody was."

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door...

It's Alain's last words that he's remembering now, though. Knockin' on heaven's door, we sang... Bert. Ro'. It's all right. Love you.

Roland's head is bowed.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert leans across the distance between them, and lays a hand on Roland's wrist.

His eyes are closed, and when he draws in a breath, it's slightly uneven.

Odd to think of this song in another world when it was so much a gunslinger's song in their own. The song of a fallen warrior--and they sang for their brothers more than once, before the end.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland turns his hand over and catches Cuthbert's, tightly.

Bob Dylan at the bar at the end of the universe singing songs they learned as children and sang for their fallen brothers in a world that moved on an age ago.

You could invoke God and the Man Jesus. God doesn't exist.

There's only Dylan, and memories.

The song ends; the next one plays, and the next.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert draws in another breath, this one steadier.

He leans back in his chair, eyes still closed, and listens, and doesn't let go of Roland's hand just yet.

[lastgunslinger]

And the next song.

And if I pass this way again, you can rest assured
I'll always do my best for her, on that I give my word
In a world of steel-eyed death, and men who are fighting to be warm.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

By this point Roland has dropped Cuthbert's hand.

Now there's a wall between us, somethin' there's been lost
I took too much for granted, got my signals crossed.
Just to think that it all began on a long-forgotten morn.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

Now his arms are close to his chest -- his right wrapped around his stomach; his left elbow propped on his right hand, with his left hand on his right shoulder. His head is bowed; his chin rests on his left hand.

I've heard newborn babies wailin' like a mournin' dove
And old men with broken teeth stranded without love.
Do I understand your question, man, is it hopeless and forlorn?
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

His eyes are closed, now.

Well, I'm livin' in a foreign country but I'm bound to cross the line
Beauty walks a razor's edge, someday I'll make it mine.
If I could only turn back the clock to when God and her were born.
"Come in," she said,
"I'll give you shelter from the storm."

And by the time the harmonica plays at the end of the song Roland's face is tight with pain, and love.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert doesn't notice at first, still lost in his own thoughts.

But as the song nears its end, he glances across at Roland--and then turns to look at him full on, his brow furrowing.

"Roland?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland's eyes open.

They flick to Cuthbert.

Without lifting his head: "Aye?"

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"You alright?"

It's obvious he isn't, but Bert doesn't know what else to say.

[lastgunslinger]

Cuthbert's the last person he should tell.

Cuthbert's the best person to tell.

It's almost like having the voices

(there was a boy there wasn't a boy)

again.

A long, slow breath -- in, and out.

"You've met the Lady."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"Aye."

No question of what lady Roland means, and there's a beginning of a smile, at first--but it's confused and uncertain and it fades quickly, because while Bert's memories of her are all good ones, it seems the same can't be said for Roland.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland waits.

Then, when he doesn't say anything more: "You never suspected, then?"

Maybe he did a better job of hiding it than he thought.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert's brow furrows again, this time in puzzlement.

"I've not seen her in some time, and wondered at it, but...is something amiss?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland is quiet for a long moment.

"You never knew."

And now he lifts his head, and lets his hands fall.

"I've learned to hide things since Mejis, it would seem."

He doesn't want to say it. Doesn't want it to be true any more.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

A small part of Cuthbert is noting that there's something wrong with his best friend that he's either been oblivious to, or had kept from him, or both, for an uncertain period of time.

Most of him doesn't care about that. Not while Roland looks like this.

"Ro'...whatever it is, I'd hear it now, if you'd speak."

[lastgunslinger]

He'll make himself say it.

"I love her."

As he loved another, once upon a time.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

For just a moment, Bert's confused.

Of course you do, he almost says.

But...there are different kinds of love.

And...

"Oh, Roland..."

He reaches out again, touching Roland's arm almost hesitantly.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland doesn't move.

"She came in the night you and I spoke out by the lake. She didn't know I'd asked the Dream-lord to tell her that I didn't want to see her until the end."

And Dylan singing: But you're gonna have to serve somebody, yes indeed
You're gonna have to serve somebody,
Well, it may be the devil or it may be the Lord
But you're gonna have to serve somebody...

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert looks down and closes his eyes again for a moment, his grip on Roland's arm tightening.

He doesn't say anything. What could he say, to this?

[lastgunslinger]

Time passes, and he sings on.

Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there
Well my sense of humanity has gone down the drain
Behind every beautiful thing there's been some kind of pain

"I'm an old fool."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

There's a moment of stillness--and then Cuthbert's shoulders shake briefly.

"Well. That's the best kind, isn't it?"

Then, he props one elbow on the arm of his chair, and drops his face into his hand.

Hastily, "Sorry. Sorry. One of these days I'm going to be in a situation where laughter's inappropriate and actually manage to contain myself, promise."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland's quiet.

Dylan: Standing on the gallows with my head in a noose
Any minute now I'm expecting all hell to break loose

"Better an old one than a young one. Young ones don't know what they are."

Lot of water under the bridge, lot of other stuff too
Don't get up gentlemen, I'm only passing through

"It'll be a cold day in hell, Bert."

A hint of amusement.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert can only nod.

He knows what he is well enough. So long as there's amusement in Roland's voice, it's alright.

He straightens up, the laughing fit gone.

"Say sorry, Ro'."

Not apologizing for the laughter, now.

[lastgunslinger]

A rough shrug.

"It was worse after I'd kissed her." Pause. "I was younger then."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"You--?"

Cuthbert blinks.

"When you were younger, here?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland nods.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Roland kissed Death.

And for all that Cuthbert personally knows the wife of Dream and the daughter of Desire, the idea of that...

"You kissed one of the Seven."

It sounds as though he's still trying to fully wrap his head around the idea.

[lastgunslinger]

Roland lowers his eyes.

"Yar."

And it was the best thing.

But he doesn't need to say that.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

There's another brief laugh, and Cuthbert runs a hand through his hair.

"'God and the Man Jesus' doesn't quite seem to cover that, somehow."

He lets his hand fall, and glances back over at Roland. "Are you--is there anything I can do?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland actually looks slightly wry. "What do you think?"

The music has stopped by this point.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

There's a crooked smile with no real humor in it.

"Yeah, didn't think so."

[lastgunslinger]

Roland gives the CD case on the floor a baleful look.

"So."

Pause.

"What do you think?"

He's talking about the music. Really.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert props his chin in one hand, looking ahead at nothing in particular.

"Not sure what to think."

And that's true of both the music, and what Roland's told him about Death. Roland can interpet it either way, if he wants.

[lastgunslinger]

"Maybe the Beatles will be better."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

Cuthbert glances at Roland again, one eyebrow raised.

"Beetles? That's...the name of a group of musicians?"

Bert's hardly going to resist a subject change, if that's what Roland wants.

[lastgunslinger]

"Apparently." Pause. "The ones who recorded 'Hey Jude'."

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"Hunh."

If Cuthbert say the name written out, he would no doubt appreciate the cleverness. As it is--

"Weird name."

[lastgunslinger]

"They're from Eddie's world. Think it's clever, I wot." A half-shrug.

[key-youth-bert.livejournal.com]

"Well." Bert tilts his head toward the TV. "Let's hear them?"

[lastgunslinger]

Roland slides from his seat and kneels by the DVD player.

His hands only shake a little as he puts the Dylan disc back in its case.