Fire and Water (Log)
Who: Jounouchi (RedEyes_Katsuya),Hotstreak (F_StopPyro) and Dr Miyagi (Played by both of us)
Where: Random Bar, Streets of New Sanctum, Hotstreak's Apartment & Hospital. (They get around a lot)
When: 25th December, 8pm.
Summary: Jounouchi discharged himself from the hospital and goes to the local bar for a drink amidst an argument between two so-called friends, sparks fly and the pyro gets wet but that's just the beginning. (Please ignore my godawful summary kthnxbai)
Notes: Comment? *hopeful*
The flame-haired pyro had been in a bad mood ever since he had woken up that morning with a killer hangover and his aunt ranting about how he was a useless layabout who should have been 'straightened out' years ago and if he lived under her roof, he'd know who was boss. He had just not been in the mood to listen to another pointless lecture from the woman who couldn't even keep track of where her own deadbeat brother had gone and only visited once a year to complain about everything in sight. He had tuned out the great majority of what she said and made a swift exit without even grabbing a piece of toast.
Now he was lounging by the pool table in the local dingy bar, concealing his injured arm with his hoodie and pretending to look interested in what one of his friends was blabbing on about. He had tried to get the jukebox to work but it seemed that the owner of the bar had finally gotten around to fixing the little problem with the machine that enabled people to listen to free tunes, he didn't have any cash and even if he did, he certainly wasn't going to waste it on something like that, so he'd abandoned it and returned to the pool game. He wasn't really paying attention and as a result had forgotten just who exactly was supposed to be in the lead. Everyone had bet money on this game and after much goading on their part, they had managed to talk him into wagering his MP3 player, so he really should have been more interested in the outcome.
"TODAY!" He sneered as he watched his 'friend' line up a shot, it was his turn next, he knew that much and he was getting impatient. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the door open and a familiar blond limp inside, though he ignored him, Blondie wasn't his concern, not since he'd left the crew.
"What's wrong?" sneered said friend, glancing up at Hotstreak and looking quite irritated, "Chill out. I'm makin' sure its proper, don't get your panties all bunched up just cos ya gonna lose." He snorted, glancing back down and aiming his shot again, teeth gritted this time. A few other members looked away, talking between themselves quietly, sending furtive glances Hotstreak's way.
Jounouchi was barely able to limp, depending heavily on his two crutches to even move. Anyone who knew the blond from his racing prowess at school would be shocked to see him in this state, wincing and barely able to take one step at a time. He sunk down onto a stood, closing his eyes up tight and quietly asking for an order.
"Yeah? An' who said I was gonna' lose? Chump." Hotstreak retorted angrily before setting down his drink and striding over to the pool table, snatching the cue from him before roughly pushing him out the way so he could take his shot. He still had no idea who was winning but he wasn't about to embarrass himself by asking, whoever was winning would probably start running their mouth sooner or later and if no one did, well that meant that he was probably the one winning. Swearing under his breath at the result of his shot, he thrust the pool cue back at his 'friend', trying to mask the pain that shot up his arm.
"What can I get you?" The bartender offered kindly. It was in the middle of the afternoon and his bar was surprisingly quiet, so he had nothing against serving people who were clearly underage, provided they didn't cause trouble. His expression turned to one of concern as he noticed the condition he was in. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital? You look like you're in a bad way."
"You'll lose," the same friend stated confidentially, lips pulled back into a cruel sneer as he leant over the table, making a neat shot and making a sound of triumph at potting a ball. He strode cockily around the table, swaggering as he leant down to take another shot, though this time missing as he looked up, giving a smirk. "Hey. you're so losing."
"I've been." Jounouchi replied softly, curling his good leg up as he gazed down at the bar, brow furrowed, "..somethin' strong."
"Ahh shut up!" Hotstreak retorted irritably, taking a swig of beer before quickly counting the number of balls that were left on the table. He was losing, but it certainly wasn't going to stay that way. Rubbing chalk onto the tip of the pool cue, he perched on the edge of the table and twisted his body to line up his next shot, smirking cockily as he managed to pot the ball before he moved around the table to take next shot, a growl escaping his throat as he potted the white by mistake. His other friends wisely decided to stay out of it, talking amongst themselves, it was always better to avoid the pyro when he was this wound up. "Why are you givin' me attitude anyway? Asshole."
The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured Jounouchi a drink anyway, watching the group of teens out of the corner of his eye "Well there must be something wrong with your doctors if they think you can walk around in this condition," he commented, sliding the glass over to him. He knew he was contradicting himself by serving the boy, but he couldn't exactly force him to get himself seen to.
"If you give me attitude, you're gonna get it back," green eyes narrowed at Hotstreak, the boy tossing his hair over his shoulder as he took the cue from the pyro, lining up a shot and smirking as he sunk it perfectly, "Okay?" He laughed, moving around the table to pot another almost perfectly.
"He doesn’t know." Jounouchi wasn't fully sure that he could drink with his medication, but he did all the same, downing half of the drink in one, sliding a few notes over to the bartender.
Hotstreak's eyes glowed threateningly as he watched him pot yet another ball. He loathed losing, a lot of people said he was overly competitive and as a result, few who knew him would willingly play a game with him, even with nothing at stake. Finally taking the cue from him, the pyro grinned confidently and lined up his shot, only to end up glaring as though it was all the pool table's fault. "This game's stupid," he muttered, snatching his MP3 player from the side before taking a swig from his beer, leaning against the wall.
"So you discharged yourself?" The bartender questioned, resuming cleaning glasses. "Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do."
"Oi," he strode up to him, pushing Hotstreak hard in the shoulder, "I think tha'd be mine you've got there. Bad loser." he added in a hiss, hitting him again.
"Its Christmas." Jounouchi stared down into what remained of his drink, his eyes reflected in the dark liquid, "I ain't got no-where ta go."
Biting his lip and drawing blood as the punch connected, Hotstreak immediately went on the offensive, gripping the other by the collar of his shirt and slamming him up against the wall before punching him in the face. "Touch me again an' you're gonna' get burned, chump!"
"So you thought you'd spend it at a bar?" The bartender questioned, lowering his voice to a gentle tone as he added "Truthfully? I don't envy you. In another few hours my shift will be over and I can spend Christmas Day with my kids," he smiled a little at that before he was thrown out of his daydream when he heard glasses smashing "Oi! Oi! Break it up!"
Jounouchi glanced over at hearing the commotion, and would have rolled his eyes if he had the strength to. He turned back, shaking his head a little and motioning for the bartender to stay put. "...don't get involved," he warned him lowly, "..if anythin', get ready ta turn on t'sprinklers."
Punching the youth in the face once again, Hotstreak abruptly let him go and picked up the money that had been lying on the edge of the pool table, counting it out quickly. "Remember whose in charge, asshole. You tangle with me an' you'll regret it. Now buzz off!" He sneered, smoke beginning to rise from his body as he folded his arms, the rest of his crew had wisely stayed out of it, but were now oblivious as to who to help, Hotstreak or Jason.
"I… wait what?" The bartender turned to face Jounouchi once again, realizing that the situation was going to get very nasty very quickly if he didn't intervene. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Are those guys mutants?!"
"Hit the sprinklers." Jounouchi repeated, not seeming at all phased as he glanced back at the gang, his eyes just half open, "..unless ya wanna lose t'bar."
Jason lunged forward, tipping over a table as he slammed Hotstreak to the wall, restraining both his hands and smirking cockily as he noticed the grimace "Well well, looks like you got hurt, Francis. What you do, eh? Trap it in a car door?" He laughed at his own joke before his face paled and his eyes widened as the red-head quite literally caught on fire, instantly reeling backwards and yelling, clutching his burnt hands.
The moment he saw the flames, the bartender freaked, dropping the glass in his hand and switching on the sprinklers, looking like he was going to pass out from shock at any moment.
The gang glanced up in surprised, two of them dragging Jason away as they swiftly left the bar whilst the pyro howled in agony and fell to his knees, coughing up smoke as steam rose from his body, the flames well and truly doused, his strength drained from him the instant that water touched his body.
If he had the strength in him, Jounouchi knew he would have gone to Hotstreak's aid. Instead he turned his gaze back to his drink, the back of his neck prickling as he rested his elbows on the bar, resting his face within his hands. He felt a little bad, but knowing Hotstreak just narrowly escaped from the feds the last time he knew that in the long run it would help the other, rather than hinder. He just hoped Hotstreak wasn't out for a beating, he knew that he would never last long against him in this condition.
Trembling and panting heavily as his body attempted to overcome the shock of suddenly having his powers doused, Hotstreak managed to push himself back onto his knees, hissing in pain and gripping his arm he continued to cough, his eyes rather glassy. "This... sucks." He wheezed, resting his arm on the table and using it to help him stand, still shaking quite badly.
Something skidded to a stop by his feet, a long and slender cylinder of metal and plastic, or in other words, one of Jounouchi's crutches. He kept his gaze remained turned away, nursing his drink.
By this point, the bartender had abandoned his post in favour of the back room so he could call the cops and report that he had successfully managed to capture a mutant.
The pyro gazed at the crutch with a confused expression on his face, his hair dripping with water and hanging limply, framing his face and making him look younger. Pushing himself to his feet with the help of the table and the crutch, he managed to weakly move over to the bar, slumping against the wooden surface and panting, his body continuing to shake. Water didn't affect him too badly provided he wasn't using his powers, though he had never much cared for it, ever since he had gotten his powers, he had grown to detest it. Water hurt, a lot. "...those guys are... assholes." He hissed, sweeping his limp red and blond hair out of his eyes.
"Ya should get outta here," Jounouchi spoke softly, his eye trained on the bartender through the crack in the door to the back room, "He's gonna call ya in fer bein' a mutant. These ain't ya usual feds," brown eyes gazed over to him, narrowed in his discomfort, "They'd kill ya sooner than look at ya."
Hotstreak wearily laid his head on his arms as Jounouchi spoke, either not paying attention to what he had to say or simply not caring. It didn't surprise him that the blond actually expected him to be able to get up and run after the soaking he'd just had, maybe if he hadn't been lit up like a blowtorch it would have been possible, but dousing the flames was incredibly painful and draining for him. "They're gonna' haul you in too...," he remarked quietly, his voice muffled by the sleeves of his drenched hoodie. "Consortin' with a known mutant is a crime, y'know." Absently pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, he emptied the cash he had taken from the pool game onto the bar, sliding it over to Jounouchi. It was only $15, which had made the fight seem even more idiotic.
"Go on, buzz off." He added, coughing up another cloud of smoke.
He looked surprised at that, glancing up and over at the dripping wet pyro, his eyes softening a little. He pocketed the cash, glancing ahead again as he listened to the bartender describe both of them over the phone. Swearing softly, Jounouchi shook his head, giving a bitter laugh and then wincing, regretting it instantly. "..ya think I can move any better?"
"Nahh," Hotstreak replied, his voice still muffled by his sleeve. "But then again, I didn't kick myself outta' the hospital, so that's all on you," he remarked with a slight cocky grin tugging at his lips, it soon vanished however when he let out another groan, slowly lifting his head and wringing some of the water out of his hair, shuddering as it trickled down the back of his neck. "Why'd you run eh? That guy was gonna' look out for you." It was a stupid question really, but he had to distract himself from the water in order for his body to get over the shock, whilst he was like this, he was going nowhere.
"Cos he's got his own family ta look out fer," Jounouchi responded softly, entwining his fingers together as he slumped forwards onto the bar, his mind buzzing, a combination of the drugs and the alcohol, "Ya get me, surely. He don't need me draggin' him down when he should be with his wife. She's gonna have his kid an' all."
"I'm not interested in havin' a deep, meanin'ful little chit chat," Hotstreak remarked wearily, rubbing his forehead and resting his head on his arms again, closing his eyes. He was shaking less now, but clearly still going through the symptoms of shock "Ugh, can't believe my homies ditched me." He grumbled to himself as he plucked Jounouchi's drink out of his hand and downed the liquid, calmed a little by the burning sensation in his throat.
"Go," Jounouchi stiffened, his back tensing up as he saw the bartender peek nervously about the door, then draw back sharply. "Ya can make it now. They're gonna get here any minute, ya should know that.. jes' get out."
Automatically shaking his head, the pyro rubbed the back of his neck before snapping his fingers several times, not even producing a spark. "Can't. Pyros an' water don't mix." He replied, sounding rather irritated about it.
"Ya fuckin' legs work, don't they?" Jounouchi spoke softly, in good humour, "I'll distract them.. they won't get me down fer too long if I'm like this."
"'Course they do, but...," he cut himself off as he heard police cars pulling up outside, tensing and trying once again to get a flame going before he forced himself to stand, albeit rather shakily. Moving over to Jounouchi, he motioned to the back door. "C'mon, lets bail." Without giving him a chance to argue, he somehow managed to hoist him to his feet, supporting some of his weight as he stumbled out of the bar, his wet clothes clinging to him.
"We ain't gonna get no-where fast like this," Jounouchi struggled to keep up, trying to not jolt his leg in the process, "...we can't outrun them..."
"Yeah? Maybe we wont have to," Hotstreak retorted as they slowly made their way down the alley. He began to shiver as they trudged through the snow, without his fire powers he wasn't capable of keeping himself warm and his drenched clothes only made the cold seem worse. Pulling Jounouchi to kneel in the snow, he hid behind a dumpster, it was a new low for him, but it had to be done, now if only he could stop shivering.
Jounouchi had to stick a leg out, unable to do anything else with it. At seeing Hotstreak shivering quite so badly, he leant in, leaning against his side and offering his body warmth, which was on the up, thanks to his injured leg.
Glancing at the blond the moment he felt his weight against him, Hotstreak was unable to help but look quite puzzled, even when Jounouchi had ran with the gangs they hadn't exactly been the best of friends and he was used to people looking out for themselves before anyone else, hell he did the same thing. Shaking his head and muttering something to himself, he abruptly removed the hoodie and tossed it aside, revealing that he had not changed the bandages wrapped around his sprained arm since they had first been put on, they were starting to unravel and the splint was certainly not doing its job in supporting his arm since it had been dislodged. "It's warmer without it." He remarked, tossing the drenched hoodie at him.
"Give me ya arm, idiot," Jounouchi spoke on noticing the dislodged sprint, holding both palms flat out in a gesture for it. His shoulders were shaking a little from the tension in his injured leg, but he kept his gaze firm.
Hotstreak lifted his head and gazed at the blond for a moment before reluctantly extending his arm, grimacing and biting his lip to prevent himself from making any kind of sound. "There's nothin' wrong with it," he commented before shifting over a little to give Jounouchi more room for his leg. "Geeze."
With surprisingly gentle hands, Jounouchi unravelled the bandages, barely touching Hotstreak as he fixed the splint back into place. Wrapping up the bandage again, he didn't speak, though his face contorted as he drew his leg in.
Drawing back again once Jounouchi had finished bandaging his arm, Hotstreak peered out from behind the dumpster, still shivering. “C’mon, the coast is clear." He commented, standing up weakly.
"...ya go on," Jounouchi dismissed Hotstreak with a small wave of his hand, "..I ain't goin' nowhere. I.." he lowered his gaze, and looked away, not wanting to admit he was in enough pain to just break down and cry for the one elder male figure he had, "...I'm gonna stay here."
"Shut up," the pyro responded, beginning to feel his strength return to him now that his body had mostly gotten over the shock of getting so drenched. Wincing a little, he helped Jounouchi onto his feet and moved to support his weight, walking with him down the alley. "Gonna'... take you back to my place."
"What?" Jounouchi was wide eyed, in too much pain and perhaps a little shock to protest that much. "I thought ya hated ya home.."
"I do," Hotstreak remarked casually, as though it was the most normal thing in the world "But the ol' lady will be at work by now and the rest of my deadbeat family should have gone back home, the place'll be empty." He sounded a little sad as he spoke, though he swiftly concealed it, moving down the street towards the familiar apartment building.
Jounouchi caught the note in his voice, but didn't comment, his body slumping slightly against the bigger teen's, focusing on using his one lone crutch.
Realizing that he had left the other crutch in the bar, Hotstreak let out a low groan and continued to help Jounouchi down the street, wondering just why he was helping him out in the first place, he certainly didn't owe the blond anything and they were hardly close, especially not since he had ditched the old gangs before the Big Bang, but as he found himself standing outside his crappy apartment patting himself down for his keys, he simply decided that he was thinking too much and unlocked the front door, groaning at the mess that was inside.
Jounouchi had seen a lot worse, and instead just looked for somewhere that he could take the weight off his feet, be it couch or stool. His good leg was even starting to hurt, with having to do the job of both.
Motioning carelessly towards the couch, Hotstreak pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside as he strode into his room. Just as he had said, it seemed that the place was completely deserted despite the fact it was Christmas Day, but the aftermath of a party had been left behind along with the wrapping paper from several gifts. There were cards positioned on the coffee table, but none addressed to him and the only decorations that were up was a rather sorry-looking fake tree with some fairy lights that didn't appear to be working and a few old baubles.
Returning a few minutes later and hitching up his baggy jeans, not that it really did much good as they just slipped back to their original position, he leant against the doorframe. "You want anything?" He questioned stiffly, unused to having people he could actually stand in the apartment.
"Painkillers?" Jounouchi asked, glancing up hopefully, wincing as he settled himself onto the couch. More than anything he wanted to get Hotstreak from the room, knowing he had at least a few hot tears lingering in his eyes still. "If ya got any, that is." he added softer, a little unnerved how much this place looked like his own.
"Yeah, sure," Hotstreak responded absently before slipping out of the room again, rummaging through the kitchen for the aspirin. Normally he avoided everything to do with hospitals and doctors, including drugs and medication, but his mother usually kept a box of aspirin around somewhere for her stress-induced headaches. "You hungry?" He called just as distantly as he continued to rummage through the drawer, smiling to himself when he found the box and grabbing a glass from the counter, hastily wiping it with a cloth that was probably too dirty to be capable of cleaning anything properly before he filled it with water from the tap.
"Naah," Jounouchi called back, giving a deep sigh of relief as he relaxed his leg on the couch, unble to believe how good that alone felt. If Hotstreak had known Jounouchi better, that answer alone was enough cause for some worry.
"Suit yourself." He answered before returning to the lounge and passing him the glass of water and packet of aspirin, Hotstreak flopped onto a rather beaten up old recliner and stretched, shifting to make himself more comfortable before trying once again to spark a flame, smiling a little as a tiny fire ignited in the palm of his hand.
Jounouchi stretched out slowly, taking the pills with a gulp of water and sighing softly. He set the glass down on the floor, before stretching out, almost cat like.
Toying with the fire in his hand for a moment, Hotstreak eventually clenched his fist and extinguished it again before shifting on the chair, still feeling quite awkward. "You get anythin' for Christmas?" He questioned after a moment, not really knowing what else to say, normally he just came home to sleep, shower, eat or change his clothes, it wasn't like he actually lingered in the apartment, let alone had people over. Even his crew didn't know what his apartment looked like.
"No," Jounouchi shook his head, before blinking, "..no.. wait I gotta bonus at work if that counts," he shifted a little, opening his eyes to gaze over at him. "...did ya?"
"Nah," the pyro replied with a casual shrug, lighting another flame in his hand and watching the fire burn with a rather distant look on his face. "I'm cool with it."
"....hmm." Jounouchi looked up at the stained ceiling, for the first time realising that perhaps he and the other were not so unalike as he had previously thought. He sighed, tilting his head back. ".....we ain't so different."
Tossing the small fireball into the air and catching it again, Hotstreak rested his head on the back of the chair as he slouched further down, picking at his t-shirt with his free hand as he tossed the fireball up again, "Maybe not." He answered with a shrug.
"....Hotstreak?" Jounouchi slumped further back into the cushions, smiling a little dazedly to himself.
"Yeah?" The pyro replied, slouching further down in the chair and keeping his eyes trained on the blond.
"....Merry Christmas." was all he offered, before his eyes closed and he slumped down fully, not moving.
"Eh?" Sitting up properly and putting out the flames in his hand, Hotstreak watched him for a moment before standing up and shaking him lightly, looking rather confused. "Oi, stop kiddin' around."
The blond didn't respond, the only movement being as Hotstreak shook him. He remained stock still afterwards, his head tilted to the side.
"I mean it! Stop kiddin' around!" Hotstreak snapped, shaking him roughly before it dawned on him that there was probably something seriously wrong. Swearing under his breath and hastily pocketing his keys, he lifted Jounouchi off the couch, his legs buckling a little under the blond's weight since he hadn't expected him to be quite as heavy as he was. Grimacing and shifting Jounouchi so as little weight as possible was on his injured arm, he left the apartment. He had to get him to the nearest hospital, but just that thought alone sent a shiver up his spine.
Jounouchi's head lolled back, his hair falling away from his face and behind him, the skin a good few shades paler than it should have been. He remained limp, his arms and legs swinging gently in time with any of Hotstreak's movements.
Scuffing his sneakers on the floor as he moved down the street, the pyro shifted Jounouchi in his arms a little so that his head would be resting against his shoulder. He could already see the bright neon lights that belonged to the local hospital since his apartment was not very far from the building and as he drew closer his steps faltered. Muttering something incoherently and half tempted to just leave him in the street for someone to find, Hotstreak closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath before continuing. The hospital was only a few minutes away at the most and he was already starting to feel nervous, the prospect of abandoning Jounouchi in the street was certainly becoming more appealing.
Luckily for Hotstreak, it happened that doctor Miyagi was just climbing out of his car, catching sight of the two familiar figures and recognising them instantly. His dark eyes wide, he moved over to them, peering down at the smaller blond anxiously. "Jounouchi? Hotstreak? What happened?"
Eyeing the doctor with suspicion, Hotstreak took a step back. It was bad enough that they were in such close proximity to the hospital, but the knowledge that he'd have to go inside was making him paranoid. "How the hell should I know?" He retorted angrily, glowering at Miyagi "One minute we were talkin', the next he passes out!"
"Right right," Miyagi went to usher him inside, though noticing the look in Hotstreak's eyes instantly. "...I can take him from here," he offered kindly, holding out his arms for the other, "I've been on the lookout for him."
"Nah... i'll stay," Hotstreak replied, though he sounded rather reluctant to do so. Carrying Jounouchi inside he stiffened as the bright lights and strong stench of antiseptic hit his senses, his breathing was becoming more laboured now and sweat glistened on his forehead whilst his eyes darted in their sockets, just being in reception was enough to make him feel uncomfortable enough to drop Jounouchi on the floor and run right there and then to get as far from the hospital as possible, yet he remained. "Just... just gimmie a minute."
"Hotstreak." Miyagi spoke softly, kindly, taking a step closer towards the other, "Let me take him. Come on..don't put yourself through this."
"I said i'm fine!" Hotstreak snapped as his eyes began to glow threateningly. Striding past Miyagi and still looking rather shaky he tried to tune out what was happening all around him, even the squeaking of his sneakers on the polished floor was giving him the creeps.
"Hotstreak, stop this." Miyagi's tone was stern now,"You look like you need to have a good sit down."
"Yeah well... there's chairs in the rooms ain't there?!" Hotstreak retorted before moving out of the way as he watched Miyagi walk towards one of the doors. Really, he wanted nothing more than to be out of there right this very minute, but he did owe it to Jounouchi, acknowledging that he was at least partially responsible for the injury in the first place.
"Fine, fine," Miyagi led him into a small room, complete with a bed, two chairs, and a desk. Motioning for him to place Jounouchi on the bed, he began looking through one of the drawers of the desk.
Doing as he was instructed and lying the blond down on the bed none too gently, he moved away until he felt the wall against his back, promptly sliding down it and ending up on his knees, one hand clutching at his side lightly as he watched Miyagi work, sweat running down his face.
Miyagi kept glancing over to Hotstreak, looking increasingly concerned as he switched his attention between the two teenagers. "
Closing his eyes and wishing he was somewhere else, Hotstreak took a few laboured breaths before answering "Yo Doc... what's wrong with him?" He didn't want to sound too concerned, but it was hard for him to regain his composure.
"It seems like an infection," Miyagi mused, leaning down and shining a light into Jounouchi's eyes, carefully prising open the eyelid, "An impalement such as his normally requires a good long rest, especially not using the area in which one was hurt."
Hotstreak merely grunted to indicate that he had heard him before slouching against the wall whilst Miyagi continued to work, carefully unbandaging Jounouchi's leg and tutting at the mess before he started to clean the wound. "Go get yourself a cup of coffee." He remarked, not even glancing at the pyro, who shook his head.
"Go on." the older man urged Hotstreak, looking back over his shoulder at him, "I'll be a while here. It will help you calm down."
Eventually standing up, Hotstreak slipped out of the room, looking considerably smaller than he usually did due to his posture being so noticeably uncomfortable and the general lack of his usual attitude.
Taking a moment to watch him leave, Miyagi soon resumed cleaning the injury, stitching the wound and re-dressing it before he checked Jounouchi's vitals.
The blond looked painfully young whilst unconscious, his cheek resting against the pillow. The rapidly bruising mark was still clearly visible under his eye, and a small cut was visible on his lower lip. He made no move other than the slight rise and fall of his chest, blissfully unaware of the stitches just applied to his wound.
"What on earth happened to you?" Miyagi whispered as he began to tend to the black eye, gently wiping a damp cloth over the injury. Letting out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his thinning hair before gently covering him with a blanket, being incredibly careful not to harm him. "You should have stayed put Katsuya, the only way you're going to get better is if you give yourself chance to heal." He had a feeling that the blond couldn't hear him, but he tried to get through to him nonetheless.
The doctor ran a gentle hand over the mass of blond hair, gazing down into Jounouchi's face with a sad sort of thoughtfulness. At hearing the door to his office open again, he glanced up, wanting to make sure that the older teenager was alright. He hadn't liked the look in his eyes before he had even gotten into the building
Raising the polystyrene cup to his lips and gulping down a large quantity of the coffee, Hotstreak looked rather pale and ill himself, though for different reasons. It was all too tempting to torch the place down to the ground, but realistically that probably wouldn't be the smartest course of action at this moment, considering that Jounouchi was laid up in one of the hospital beds and all. Tightening his grip on the empty cup, he refused to look Miyagi in the eye, his free hand gripping his side lightly as he gazed at his feet.
"Hotstreak," the older man reached out, placing a gentle hand on the teenager's shoulder, eyes concerned behind his glasses, "Sit down.. come on." He guided him to sit into a seat near to Jounouchi's bed, crouching down to be more at his level, "..what happened was a very long time ago.."
Moving stiffly as he was guided closer to the bed, Hotstreak slumped in the chair and accidentally crushed the cup in his hands, he looked like he had seen a ghost and seemed to be very uncomfortable sitting there, but he remained nonetheless. "Ahh, i'm over that." He lied, trying to sound cocky and failing miserably.
"Oh come off it," Miyagi sighed gently, looking up into his face, "..ever since that you've been afraid of coming in here. It was.. a very hard time, but it was many years ago now.."
"So what?!" The pyro snapped, leaning forward in the chair a little. "I was in an' out of this place! I spent two years in this place! I don't do hospitals!" Abruptly leaning back in the chair and slouching, he refused to look Miyagi in the eye.
"I know," Miyagi replied softly, "Some people can spend their entire lives in here.. others never even have to come. But you mustn't be afraid.. that won't happen again."
Without warning, Hotstreak leant forward and gripped Miyagi's collar, yanking him down to his level and holding a fireball in his free hand dangerously close to Miyagi's face. "Drop the subject, Doc." He responded coldly before lightly pushing him back, clenching his fist and extinguishing the fire.
"Then why do you let it haunt you so constantly?" Miyagi questioned softly, seeming just a little startled by the entire thing, "Why?"
"'Cause I don't like hospitals!" Hotstreak replied, his eyes glowing threateningly as smoke began to rise up from his body. He may have felt uncomfortable in his surroundings, but that didn't mean his powers wouldn't work. He didn't know what had been the ultimate cause of his phobia, whether it had been because the days had all blended together since he'd had no one to visit him for months on end, or it could have simply been that at the time where he was constantly in and out of the hospital, he knew he was sick but nobody really knew what was wrong with him, the doctors themselves had been mostly inattentive, but they hadn't done anything bad to him, except stick him with needles and keep him cooped up in that little room. Now more than ever, he despised being cooped up for too long, he had just figured it was to do with his powers but the thought of returning to hospital for more treatment scared him beyond belief.
"What's with the twenty questions?" He demanded, running his fingers through his limp hair before forcing himself to stare directly at the doctor, his eyes still glowing. "Everyone has a phobia, geeze!"
"Fine fine," Miyagi offered mildly, gently, "I just thought you to be stronger than to let this rule you so."
"Yeah?!" Hotstreak snapped as he glared at the doctor, flames surrounding his whole body as he stood up. "You dunno what the hell you're talkin' about so get offa' your high horse an' do your job!"
Miyagi sighed. "Hotstreak..calm down. This will not help you in the slightest.."
Hotstreak glowered and formed a fireball in his hand, the heat radiating off his body managing to raise the temperature of the whole room by several degrees and although his clothes remained undamaged by the flames, the edges of the bandages were starting to burn. "Ahh shut up!"
"Hotstreak, calm DOWN!" Miyagi spoke loudly, his tone sharp as he backed away, to stand in front of Jounouchi's bed, "Now!"
Laughing, the pyro tossed the fireball into the air, catching it again and smirking "Why, you scared? It's only a bit of fire." He remarked before laughing again, there were of course sprinklers in the room, but he either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. "Where's your spirit eh?"
"There are oxygen tanks stored in this room," Miyagi's response was careful, slightly worried, "If you catch just one of them, you will cause an explosion."
"Well that's stupid," Hotstreak replied, glancing to his left and spotting the canisters before the flames vanished, though he didn't look too happy about it. "Teach you right for pissin' me off." He grumbled
.
"You got yourself worked up," Miyagi's calm response came, softly, "You should learn to control that temper a little better."
Rolling his eyes and shoving his hands into his pockets, the hot-headed pyro remarked sourly "Tch i've had anger management."
Unable to stop himself, Miyagi burst out into laughter, looking away to the side, his shoulders shaking.
"What? I did!" Hotstreak snapped, the glow returning to his eyes as his powers reacted to his anger. He didn't like people making fun of him, especially doctors and whilst he was probably sure that Miyagi thought he was acting like an utter brat, he didn’t really care about what other people thought about him either, they either tolerated his frequent temper tantrums or they left.
"I'm sorry.." Miyagi struggled to calm down, still chuckling, "But... oh I have missed seeing you over the years, I'll admit."
"Ahh, I could'a done without seein' your ugly mug again." Hotstreak remarked, rolling his eyes and sinking back into the chair, casting an uneasy glance over at the blond before flinching as one of the machines beeped.
"Now now," Miyagi pretended to look hurt, though moving over to the machine to check on the stats, "No need for that."
Slouching in the chair, he began to fiddle with the bandages, his red hair falling over his eyes messily since he hadn't bothered to gel it back after getting so drenched. "Anyway," he added hastily, not looking at Miyagi as he continued to pick at the bandages that were wrapped around his arm which had become quite swollen due to the sprain "Soon as he wakes up, i'm outta' here. It's scarin' the bejeezus outta' me just bein' here."
Miyagi gave him a gentle smile over his shoulder. "... you may as well go when you would like. I doubt he will be coming to anytime today. Tomorrow, perhaps, but he seems very tired."
"Right... well in that case, i'm off. Gonna'... track down my homies." He lied, pushing himself out of the chair rather hastily before swiftly exiting the room, his sneakers squeaking on the floor as he moved, holding his injured arm close to his chest, there was no point torturing himself any longer, the doctors would make sure that Jounouchi didn't leave again.
Where: Random Bar, Streets of New Sanctum, Hotstreak's Apartment & Hospital. (They get around a lot)
When: 25th December, 8pm.
Summary: Jounouchi discharged himself from the hospital and goes to the local bar for a drink amidst an argument between two so-called friends, sparks fly and the pyro gets wet but that's just the beginning. (Please ignore my godawful summary kthnxbai)
Notes: Comment? *hopeful*
The flame-haired pyro had been in a bad mood ever since he had woken up that morning with a killer hangover and his aunt ranting about how he was a useless layabout who should have been 'straightened out' years ago and if he lived under her roof, he'd know who was boss. He had just not been in the mood to listen to another pointless lecture from the woman who couldn't even keep track of where her own deadbeat brother had gone and only visited once a year to complain about everything in sight. He had tuned out the great majority of what she said and made a swift exit without even grabbing a piece of toast.
Now he was lounging by the pool table in the local dingy bar, concealing his injured arm with his hoodie and pretending to look interested in what one of his friends was blabbing on about. He had tried to get the jukebox to work but it seemed that the owner of the bar had finally gotten around to fixing the little problem with the machine that enabled people to listen to free tunes, he didn't have any cash and even if he did, he certainly wasn't going to waste it on something like that, so he'd abandoned it and returned to the pool game. He wasn't really paying attention and as a result had forgotten just who exactly was supposed to be in the lead. Everyone had bet money on this game and after much goading on their part, they had managed to talk him into wagering his MP3 player, so he really should have been more interested in the outcome.
"TODAY!" He sneered as he watched his 'friend' line up a shot, it was his turn next, he knew that much and he was getting impatient. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the door open and a familiar blond limp inside, though he ignored him, Blondie wasn't his concern, not since he'd left the crew.
"What's wrong?" sneered said friend, glancing up at Hotstreak and looking quite irritated, "Chill out. I'm makin' sure its proper, don't get your panties all bunched up just cos ya gonna lose." He snorted, glancing back down and aiming his shot again, teeth gritted this time. A few other members looked away, talking between themselves quietly, sending furtive glances Hotstreak's way.
Jounouchi was barely able to limp, depending heavily on his two crutches to even move. Anyone who knew the blond from his racing prowess at school would be shocked to see him in this state, wincing and barely able to take one step at a time. He sunk down onto a stood, closing his eyes up tight and quietly asking for an order.
"Yeah? An' who said I was gonna' lose? Chump." Hotstreak retorted angrily before setting down his drink and striding over to the pool table, snatching the cue from him before roughly pushing him out the way so he could take his shot. He still had no idea who was winning but he wasn't about to embarrass himself by asking, whoever was winning would probably start running their mouth sooner or later and if no one did, well that meant that he was probably the one winning. Swearing under his breath at the result of his shot, he thrust the pool cue back at his 'friend', trying to mask the pain that shot up his arm.
"What can I get you?" The bartender offered kindly. It was in the middle of the afternoon and his bar was surprisingly quiet, so he had nothing against serving people who were clearly underage, provided they didn't cause trouble. His expression turned to one of concern as he noticed the condition he was in. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital? You look like you're in a bad way."
"You'll lose," the same friend stated confidentially, lips pulled back into a cruel sneer as he leant over the table, making a neat shot and making a sound of triumph at potting a ball. He strode cockily around the table, swaggering as he leant down to take another shot, though this time missing as he looked up, giving a smirk. "Hey. you're so losing."
"I've been." Jounouchi replied softly, curling his good leg up as he gazed down at the bar, brow furrowed, "..somethin' strong."
"Ahh shut up!" Hotstreak retorted irritably, taking a swig of beer before quickly counting the number of balls that were left on the table. He was losing, but it certainly wasn't going to stay that way. Rubbing chalk onto the tip of the pool cue, he perched on the edge of the table and twisted his body to line up his next shot, smirking cockily as he managed to pot the ball before he moved around the table to take next shot, a growl escaping his throat as he potted the white by mistake. His other friends wisely decided to stay out of it, talking amongst themselves, it was always better to avoid the pyro when he was this wound up. "Why are you givin' me attitude anyway? Asshole."
The bartender raised an eyebrow but poured Jounouchi a drink anyway, watching the group of teens out of the corner of his eye "Well there must be something wrong with your doctors if they think you can walk around in this condition," he commented, sliding the glass over to him. He knew he was contradicting himself by serving the boy, but he couldn't exactly force him to get himself seen to.
"If you give me attitude, you're gonna get it back," green eyes narrowed at Hotstreak, the boy tossing his hair over his shoulder as he took the cue from the pyro, lining up a shot and smirking as he sunk it perfectly, "Okay?" He laughed, moving around the table to pot another almost perfectly.
"He doesn’t know." Jounouchi wasn't fully sure that he could drink with his medication, but he did all the same, downing half of the drink in one, sliding a few notes over to the bartender.
Hotstreak's eyes glowed threateningly as he watched him pot yet another ball. He loathed losing, a lot of people said he was overly competitive and as a result, few who knew him would willingly play a game with him, even with nothing at stake. Finally taking the cue from him, the pyro grinned confidently and lined up his shot, only to end up glaring as though it was all the pool table's fault. "This game's stupid," he muttered, snatching his MP3 player from the side before taking a swig from his beer, leaning against the wall.
"So you discharged yourself?" The bartender questioned, resuming cleaning glasses. "Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing to do."
"Oi," he strode up to him, pushing Hotstreak hard in the shoulder, "I think tha'd be mine you've got there. Bad loser." he added in a hiss, hitting him again.
"Its Christmas." Jounouchi stared down into what remained of his drink, his eyes reflected in the dark liquid, "I ain't got no-where ta go."
Biting his lip and drawing blood as the punch connected, Hotstreak immediately went on the offensive, gripping the other by the collar of his shirt and slamming him up against the wall before punching him in the face. "Touch me again an' you're gonna' get burned, chump!"
"So you thought you'd spend it at a bar?" The bartender questioned, lowering his voice to a gentle tone as he added "Truthfully? I don't envy you. In another few hours my shift will be over and I can spend Christmas Day with my kids," he smiled a little at that before he was thrown out of his daydream when he heard glasses smashing "Oi! Oi! Break it up!"
Jounouchi glanced over at hearing the commotion, and would have rolled his eyes if he had the strength to. He turned back, shaking his head a little and motioning for the bartender to stay put. "...don't get involved," he warned him lowly, "..if anythin', get ready ta turn on t'sprinklers."
Punching the youth in the face once again, Hotstreak abruptly let him go and picked up the money that had been lying on the edge of the pool table, counting it out quickly. "Remember whose in charge, asshole. You tangle with me an' you'll regret it. Now buzz off!" He sneered, smoke beginning to rise from his body as he folded his arms, the rest of his crew had wisely stayed out of it, but were now oblivious as to who to help, Hotstreak or Jason.
"I… wait what?" The bartender turned to face Jounouchi once again, realizing that the situation was going to get very nasty very quickly if he didn't intervene. Suddenly, it dawned on him. "Are those guys mutants?!"
"Hit the sprinklers." Jounouchi repeated, not seeming at all phased as he glanced back at the gang, his eyes just half open, "..unless ya wanna lose t'bar."
Jason lunged forward, tipping over a table as he slammed Hotstreak to the wall, restraining both his hands and smirking cockily as he noticed the grimace "Well well, looks like you got hurt, Francis. What you do, eh? Trap it in a car door?" He laughed at his own joke before his face paled and his eyes widened as the red-head quite literally caught on fire, instantly reeling backwards and yelling, clutching his burnt hands.
The moment he saw the flames, the bartender freaked, dropping the glass in his hand and switching on the sprinklers, looking like he was going to pass out from shock at any moment.
The gang glanced up in surprised, two of them dragging Jason away as they swiftly left the bar whilst the pyro howled in agony and fell to his knees, coughing up smoke as steam rose from his body, the flames well and truly doused, his strength drained from him the instant that water touched his body.
If he had the strength in him, Jounouchi knew he would have gone to Hotstreak's aid. Instead he turned his gaze back to his drink, the back of his neck prickling as he rested his elbows on the bar, resting his face within his hands. He felt a little bad, but knowing Hotstreak just narrowly escaped from the feds the last time he knew that in the long run it would help the other, rather than hinder. He just hoped Hotstreak wasn't out for a beating, he knew that he would never last long against him in this condition.
Trembling and panting heavily as his body attempted to overcome the shock of suddenly having his powers doused, Hotstreak managed to push himself back onto his knees, hissing in pain and gripping his arm he continued to cough, his eyes rather glassy. "This... sucks." He wheezed, resting his arm on the table and using it to help him stand, still shaking quite badly.
Something skidded to a stop by his feet, a long and slender cylinder of metal and plastic, or in other words, one of Jounouchi's crutches. He kept his gaze remained turned away, nursing his drink.
By this point, the bartender had abandoned his post in favour of the back room so he could call the cops and report that he had successfully managed to capture a mutant.
The pyro gazed at the crutch with a confused expression on his face, his hair dripping with water and hanging limply, framing his face and making him look younger. Pushing himself to his feet with the help of the table and the crutch, he managed to weakly move over to the bar, slumping against the wooden surface and panting, his body continuing to shake. Water didn't affect him too badly provided he wasn't using his powers, though he had never much cared for it, ever since he had gotten his powers, he had grown to detest it. Water hurt, a lot. "...those guys are... assholes." He hissed, sweeping his limp red and blond hair out of his eyes.
"Ya should get outta here," Jounouchi spoke softly, his eye trained on the bartender through the crack in the door to the back room, "He's gonna call ya in fer bein' a mutant. These ain't ya usual feds," brown eyes gazed over to him, narrowed in his discomfort, "They'd kill ya sooner than look at ya."
Hotstreak wearily laid his head on his arms as Jounouchi spoke, either not paying attention to what he had to say or simply not caring. It didn't surprise him that the blond actually expected him to be able to get up and run after the soaking he'd just had, maybe if he hadn't been lit up like a blowtorch it would have been possible, but dousing the flames was incredibly painful and draining for him. "They're gonna' haul you in too...," he remarked quietly, his voice muffled by the sleeves of his drenched hoodie. "Consortin' with a known mutant is a crime, y'know." Absently pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, he emptied the cash he had taken from the pool game onto the bar, sliding it over to Jounouchi. It was only $15, which had made the fight seem even more idiotic.
"Go on, buzz off." He added, coughing up another cloud of smoke.
He looked surprised at that, glancing up and over at the dripping wet pyro, his eyes softening a little. He pocketed the cash, glancing ahead again as he listened to the bartender describe both of them over the phone. Swearing softly, Jounouchi shook his head, giving a bitter laugh and then wincing, regretting it instantly. "..ya think I can move any better?"
"Nahh," Hotstreak replied, his voice still muffled by his sleeve. "But then again, I didn't kick myself outta' the hospital, so that's all on you," he remarked with a slight cocky grin tugging at his lips, it soon vanished however when he let out another groan, slowly lifting his head and wringing some of the water out of his hair, shuddering as it trickled down the back of his neck. "Why'd you run eh? That guy was gonna' look out for you." It was a stupid question really, but he had to distract himself from the water in order for his body to get over the shock, whilst he was like this, he was going nowhere.
"Cos he's got his own family ta look out fer," Jounouchi responded softly, entwining his fingers together as he slumped forwards onto the bar, his mind buzzing, a combination of the drugs and the alcohol, "Ya get me, surely. He don't need me draggin' him down when he should be with his wife. She's gonna have his kid an' all."
"I'm not interested in havin' a deep, meanin'ful little chit chat," Hotstreak remarked wearily, rubbing his forehead and resting his head on his arms again, closing his eyes. He was shaking less now, but clearly still going through the symptoms of shock "Ugh, can't believe my homies ditched me." He grumbled to himself as he plucked Jounouchi's drink out of his hand and downed the liquid, calmed a little by the burning sensation in his throat.
"Go," Jounouchi stiffened, his back tensing up as he saw the bartender peek nervously about the door, then draw back sharply. "Ya can make it now. They're gonna get here any minute, ya should know that.. jes' get out."
Automatically shaking his head, the pyro rubbed the back of his neck before snapping his fingers several times, not even producing a spark. "Can't. Pyros an' water don't mix." He replied, sounding rather irritated about it.
"Ya fuckin' legs work, don't they?" Jounouchi spoke softly, in good humour, "I'll distract them.. they won't get me down fer too long if I'm like this."
"'Course they do, but...," he cut himself off as he heard police cars pulling up outside, tensing and trying once again to get a flame going before he forced himself to stand, albeit rather shakily. Moving over to Jounouchi, he motioned to the back door. "C'mon, lets bail." Without giving him a chance to argue, he somehow managed to hoist him to his feet, supporting some of his weight as he stumbled out of the bar, his wet clothes clinging to him.
"We ain't gonna get no-where fast like this," Jounouchi struggled to keep up, trying to not jolt his leg in the process, "...we can't outrun them..."
"Yeah? Maybe we wont have to," Hotstreak retorted as they slowly made their way down the alley. He began to shiver as they trudged through the snow, without his fire powers he wasn't capable of keeping himself warm and his drenched clothes only made the cold seem worse. Pulling Jounouchi to kneel in the snow, he hid behind a dumpster, it was a new low for him, but it had to be done, now if only he could stop shivering.
Jounouchi had to stick a leg out, unable to do anything else with it. At seeing Hotstreak shivering quite so badly, he leant in, leaning against his side and offering his body warmth, which was on the up, thanks to his injured leg.
Glancing at the blond the moment he felt his weight against him, Hotstreak was unable to help but look quite puzzled, even when Jounouchi had ran with the gangs they hadn't exactly been the best of friends and he was used to people looking out for themselves before anyone else, hell he did the same thing. Shaking his head and muttering something to himself, he abruptly removed the hoodie and tossed it aside, revealing that he had not changed the bandages wrapped around his sprained arm since they had first been put on, they were starting to unravel and the splint was certainly not doing its job in supporting his arm since it had been dislodged. "It's warmer without it." He remarked, tossing the drenched hoodie at him.
"Give me ya arm, idiot," Jounouchi spoke on noticing the dislodged sprint, holding both palms flat out in a gesture for it. His shoulders were shaking a little from the tension in his injured leg, but he kept his gaze firm.
Hotstreak lifted his head and gazed at the blond for a moment before reluctantly extending his arm, grimacing and biting his lip to prevent himself from making any kind of sound. "There's nothin' wrong with it," he commented before shifting over a little to give Jounouchi more room for his leg. "Geeze."
With surprisingly gentle hands, Jounouchi unravelled the bandages, barely touching Hotstreak as he fixed the splint back into place. Wrapping up the bandage again, he didn't speak, though his face contorted as he drew his leg in.
Drawing back again once Jounouchi had finished bandaging his arm, Hotstreak peered out from behind the dumpster, still shivering. “C’mon, the coast is clear." He commented, standing up weakly.
"...ya go on," Jounouchi dismissed Hotstreak with a small wave of his hand, "..I ain't goin' nowhere. I.." he lowered his gaze, and looked away, not wanting to admit he was in enough pain to just break down and cry for the one elder male figure he had, "...I'm gonna stay here."
"Shut up," the pyro responded, beginning to feel his strength return to him now that his body had mostly gotten over the shock of getting so drenched. Wincing a little, he helped Jounouchi onto his feet and moved to support his weight, walking with him down the alley. "Gonna'... take you back to my place."
"What?" Jounouchi was wide eyed, in too much pain and perhaps a little shock to protest that much. "I thought ya hated ya home.."
"I do," Hotstreak remarked casually, as though it was the most normal thing in the world "But the ol' lady will be at work by now and the rest of my deadbeat family should have gone back home, the place'll be empty." He sounded a little sad as he spoke, though he swiftly concealed it, moving down the street towards the familiar apartment building.
Jounouchi caught the note in his voice, but didn't comment, his body slumping slightly against the bigger teen's, focusing on using his one lone crutch.
Realizing that he had left the other crutch in the bar, Hotstreak let out a low groan and continued to help Jounouchi down the street, wondering just why he was helping him out in the first place, he certainly didn't owe the blond anything and they were hardly close, especially not since he had ditched the old gangs before the Big Bang, but as he found himself standing outside his crappy apartment patting himself down for his keys, he simply decided that he was thinking too much and unlocked the front door, groaning at the mess that was inside.
Jounouchi had seen a lot worse, and instead just looked for somewhere that he could take the weight off his feet, be it couch or stool. His good leg was even starting to hurt, with having to do the job of both.
Motioning carelessly towards the couch, Hotstreak pulled off his t-shirt and tossed it aside as he strode into his room. Just as he had said, it seemed that the place was completely deserted despite the fact it was Christmas Day, but the aftermath of a party had been left behind along with the wrapping paper from several gifts. There were cards positioned on the coffee table, but none addressed to him and the only decorations that were up was a rather sorry-looking fake tree with some fairy lights that didn't appear to be working and a few old baubles.
Returning a few minutes later and hitching up his baggy jeans, not that it really did much good as they just slipped back to their original position, he leant against the doorframe. "You want anything?" He questioned stiffly, unused to having people he could actually stand in the apartment.
"Painkillers?" Jounouchi asked, glancing up hopefully, wincing as he settled himself onto the couch. More than anything he wanted to get Hotstreak from the room, knowing he had at least a few hot tears lingering in his eyes still. "If ya got any, that is." he added softer, a little unnerved how much this place looked like his own.
"Yeah, sure," Hotstreak responded absently before slipping out of the room again, rummaging through the kitchen for the aspirin. Normally he avoided everything to do with hospitals and doctors, including drugs and medication, but his mother usually kept a box of aspirin around somewhere for her stress-induced headaches. "You hungry?" He called just as distantly as he continued to rummage through the drawer, smiling to himself when he found the box and grabbing a glass from the counter, hastily wiping it with a cloth that was probably too dirty to be capable of cleaning anything properly before he filled it with water from the tap.
"Naah," Jounouchi called back, giving a deep sigh of relief as he relaxed his leg on the couch, unble to believe how good that alone felt. If Hotstreak had known Jounouchi better, that answer alone was enough cause for some worry.
"Suit yourself." He answered before returning to the lounge and passing him the glass of water and packet of aspirin, Hotstreak flopped onto a rather beaten up old recliner and stretched, shifting to make himself more comfortable before trying once again to spark a flame, smiling a little as a tiny fire ignited in the palm of his hand.
Jounouchi stretched out slowly, taking the pills with a gulp of water and sighing softly. He set the glass down on the floor, before stretching out, almost cat like.
Toying with the fire in his hand for a moment, Hotstreak eventually clenched his fist and extinguished it again before shifting on the chair, still feeling quite awkward. "You get anythin' for Christmas?" He questioned after a moment, not really knowing what else to say, normally he just came home to sleep, shower, eat or change his clothes, it wasn't like he actually lingered in the apartment, let alone had people over. Even his crew didn't know what his apartment looked like.
"No," Jounouchi shook his head, before blinking, "..no.. wait I gotta bonus at work if that counts," he shifted a little, opening his eyes to gaze over at him. "...did ya?"
"Nah," the pyro replied with a casual shrug, lighting another flame in his hand and watching the fire burn with a rather distant look on his face. "I'm cool with it."
"....hmm." Jounouchi looked up at the stained ceiling, for the first time realising that perhaps he and the other were not so unalike as he had previously thought. He sighed, tilting his head back. ".....we ain't so different."
Tossing the small fireball into the air and catching it again, Hotstreak rested his head on the back of the chair as he slouched further down, picking at his t-shirt with his free hand as he tossed the fireball up again, "Maybe not." He answered with a shrug.
"....Hotstreak?" Jounouchi slumped further back into the cushions, smiling a little dazedly to himself.
"Yeah?" The pyro replied, slouching further down in the chair and keeping his eyes trained on the blond.
"....Merry Christmas." was all he offered, before his eyes closed and he slumped down fully, not moving.
"Eh?" Sitting up properly and putting out the flames in his hand, Hotstreak watched him for a moment before standing up and shaking him lightly, looking rather confused. "Oi, stop kiddin' around."
The blond didn't respond, the only movement being as Hotstreak shook him. He remained stock still afterwards, his head tilted to the side.
"I mean it! Stop kiddin' around!" Hotstreak snapped, shaking him roughly before it dawned on him that there was probably something seriously wrong. Swearing under his breath and hastily pocketing his keys, he lifted Jounouchi off the couch, his legs buckling a little under the blond's weight since he hadn't expected him to be quite as heavy as he was. Grimacing and shifting Jounouchi so as little weight as possible was on his injured arm, he left the apartment. He had to get him to the nearest hospital, but just that thought alone sent a shiver up his spine.
Jounouchi's head lolled back, his hair falling away from his face and behind him, the skin a good few shades paler than it should have been. He remained limp, his arms and legs swinging gently in time with any of Hotstreak's movements.
Scuffing his sneakers on the floor as he moved down the street, the pyro shifted Jounouchi in his arms a little so that his head would be resting against his shoulder. He could already see the bright neon lights that belonged to the local hospital since his apartment was not very far from the building and as he drew closer his steps faltered. Muttering something incoherently and half tempted to just leave him in the street for someone to find, Hotstreak closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath before continuing. The hospital was only a few minutes away at the most and he was already starting to feel nervous, the prospect of abandoning Jounouchi in the street was certainly becoming more appealing.
Luckily for Hotstreak, it happened that doctor Miyagi was just climbing out of his car, catching sight of the two familiar figures and recognising them instantly. His dark eyes wide, he moved over to them, peering down at the smaller blond anxiously. "Jounouchi? Hotstreak? What happened?"
Eyeing the doctor with suspicion, Hotstreak took a step back. It was bad enough that they were in such close proximity to the hospital, but the knowledge that he'd have to go inside was making him paranoid. "How the hell should I know?" He retorted angrily, glowering at Miyagi "One minute we were talkin', the next he passes out!"
"Right right," Miyagi went to usher him inside, though noticing the look in Hotstreak's eyes instantly. "...I can take him from here," he offered kindly, holding out his arms for the other, "I've been on the lookout for him."
"Nah... i'll stay," Hotstreak replied, though he sounded rather reluctant to do so. Carrying Jounouchi inside he stiffened as the bright lights and strong stench of antiseptic hit his senses, his breathing was becoming more laboured now and sweat glistened on his forehead whilst his eyes darted in their sockets, just being in reception was enough to make him feel uncomfortable enough to drop Jounouchi on the floor and run right there and then to get as far from the hospital as possible, yet he remained. "Just... just gimmie a minute."
"Hotstreak." Miyagi spoke softly, kindly, taking a step closer towards the other, "Let me take him. Come on..don't put yourself through this."
"I said i'm fine!" Hotstreak snapped as his eyes began to glow threateningly. Striding past Miyagi and still looking rather shaky he tried to tune out what was happening all around him, even the squeaking of his sneakers on the polished floor was giving him the creeps.
"Hotstreak, stop this." Miyagi's tone was stern now,"You look like you need to have a good sit down."
"Yeah well... there's chairs in the rooms ain't there?!" Hotstreak retorted before moving out of the way as he watched Miyagi walk towards one of the doors. Really, he wanted nothing more than to be out of there right this very minute, but he did owe it to Jounouchi, acknowledging that he was at least partially responsible for the injury in the first place.
"Fine, fine," Miyagi led him into a small room, complete with a bed, two chairs, and a desk. Motioning for him to place Jounouchi on the bed, he began looking through one of the drawers of the desk.
Doing as he was instructed and lying the blond down on the bed none too gently, he moved away until he felt the wall against his back, promptly sliding down it and ending up on his knees, one hand clutching at his side lightly as he watched Miyagi work, sweat running down his face.
Miyagi kept glancing over to Hotstreak, looking increasingly concerned as he switched his attention between the two teenagers. "
Closing his eyes and wishing he was somewhere else, Hotstreak took a few laboured breaths before answering "Yo Doc... what's wrong with him?" He didn't want to sound too concerned, but it was hard for him to regain his composure.
"It seems like an infection," Miyagi mused, leaning down and shining a light into Jounouchi's eyes, carefully prising open the eyelid, "An impalement such as his normally requires a good long rest, especially not using the area in which one was hurt."
Hotstreak merely grunted to indicate that he had heard him before slouching against the wall whilst Miyagi continued to work, carefully unbandaging Jounouchi's leg and tutting at the mess before he started to clean the wound. "Go get yourself a cup of coffee." He remarked, not even glancing at the pyro, who shook his head.
"Go on." the older man urged Hotstreak, looking back over his shoulder at him, "I'll be a while here. It will help you calm down."
Eventually standing up, Hotstreak slipped out of the room, looking considerably smaller than he usually did due to his posture being so noticeably uncomfortable and the general lack of his usual attitude.
Taking a moment to watch him leave, Miyagi soon resumed cleaning the injury, stitching the wound and re-dressing it before he checked Jounouchi's vitals.
The blond looked painfully young whilst unconscious, his cheek resting against the pillow. The rapidly bruising mark was still clearly visible under his eye, and a small cut was visible on his lower lip. He made no move other than the slight rise and fall of his chest, blissfully unaware of the stitches just applied to his wound.
"What on earth happened to you?" Miyagi whispered as he began to tend to the black eye, gently wiping a damp cloth over the injury. Letting out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his thinning hair before gently covering him with a blanket, being incredibly careful not to harm him. "You should have stayed put Katsuya, the only way you're going to get better is if you give yourself chance to heal." He had a feeling that the blond couldn't hear him, but he tried to get through to him nonetheless.
The doctor ran a gentle hand over the mass of blond hair, gazing down into Jounouchi's face with a sad sort of thoughtfulness. At hearing the door to his office open again, he glanced up, wanting to make sure that the older teenager was alright. He hadn't liked the look in his eyes before he had even gotten into the building
Raising the polystyrene cup to his lips and gulping down a large quantity of the coffee, Hotstreak looked rather pale and ill himself, though for different reasons. It was all too tempting to torch the place down to the ground, but realistically that probably wouldn't be the smartest course of action at this moment, considering that Jounouchi was laid up in one of the hospital beds and all. Tightening his grip on the empty cup, he refused to look Miyagi in the eye, his free hand gripping his side lightly as he gazed at his feet.
"Hotstreak," the older man reached out, placing a gentle hand on the teenager's shoulder, eyes concerned behind his glasses, "Sit down.. come on." He guided him to sit into a seat near to Jounouchi's bed, crouching down to be more at his level, "..what happened was a very long time ago.."
Moving stiffly as he was guided closer to the bed, Hotstreak slumped in the chair and accidentally crushed the cup in his hands, he looked like he had seen a ghost and seemed to be very uncomfortable sitting there, but he remained nonetheless. "Ahh, i'm over that." He lied, trying to sound cocky and failing miserably.
"Oh come off it," Miyagi sighed gently, looking up into his face, "..ever since that you've been afraid of coming in here. It was.. a very hard time, but it was many years ago now.."
"So what?!" The pyro snapped, leaning forward in the chair a little. "I was in an' out of this place! I spent two years in this place! I don't do hospitals!" Abruptly leaning back in the chair and slouching, he refused to look Miyagi in the eye.
"I know," Miyagi replied softly, "Some people can spend their entire lives in here.. others never even have to come. But you mustn't be afraid.. that won't happen again."
Without warning, Hotstreak leant forward and gripped Miyagi's collar, yanking him down to his level and holding a fireball in his free hand dangerously close to Miyagi's face. "Drop the subject, Doc." He responded coldly before lightly pushing him back, clenching his fist and extinguishing the fire.
"Then why do you let it haunt you so constantly?" Miyagi questioned softly, seeming just a little startled by the entire thing, "Why?"
"'Cause I don't like hospitals!" Hotstreak replied, his eyes glowing threateningly as smoke began to rise up from his body. He may have felt uncomfortable in his surroundings, but that didn't mean his powers wouldn't work. He didn't know what had been the ultimate cause of his phobia, whether it had been because the days had all blended together since he'd had no one to visit him for months on end, or it could have simply been that at the time where he was constantly in and out of the hospital, he knew he was sick but nobody really knew what was wrong with him, the doctors themselves had been mostly inattentive, but they hadn't done anything bad to him, except stick him with needles and keep him cooped up in that little room. Now more than ever, he despised being cooped up for too long, he had just figured it was to do with his powers but the thought of returning to hospital for more treatment scared him beyond belief.
"What's with the twenty questions?" He demanded, running his fingers through his limp hair before forcing himself to stare directly at the doctor, his eyes still glowing. "Everyone has a phobia, geeze!"
"Fine fine," Miyagi offered mildly, gently, "I just thought you to be stronger than to let this rule you so."
"Yeah?!" Hotstreak snapped as he glared at the doctor, flames surrounding his whole body as he stood up. "You dunno what the hell you're talkin' about so get offa' your high horse an' do your job!"
Miyagi sighed. "Hotstreak..calm down. This will not help you in the slightest.."
Hotstreak glowered and formed a fireball in his hand, the heat radiating off his body managing to raise the temperature of the whole room by several degrees and although his clothes remained undamaged by the flames, the edges of the bandages were starting to burn. "Ahh shut up!"
"Hotstreak, calm DOWN!" Miyagi spoke loudly, his tone sharp as he backed away, to stand in front of Jounouchi's bed, "Now!"
Laughing, the pyro tossed the fireball into the air, catching it again and smirking "Why, you scared? It's only a bit of fire." He remarked before laughing again, there were of course sprinklers in the room, but he either hadn't noticed or simply didn't care. "Where's your spirit eh?"
"There are oxygen tanks stored in this room," Miyagi's response was careful, slightly worried, "If you catch just one of them, you will cause an explosion."
"Well that's stupid," Hotstreak replied, glancing to his left and spotting the canisters before the flames vanished, though he didn't look too happy about it. "Teach you right for pissin' me off." He grumbled
.
"You got yourself worked up," Miyagi's calm response came, softly, "You should learn to control that temper a little better."
Rolling his eyes and shoving his hands into his pockets, the hot-headed pyro remarked sourly "Tch i've had anger management."
Unable to stop himself, Miyagi burst out into laughter, looking away to the side, his shoulders shaking.
"What? I did!" Hotstreak snapped, the glow returning to his eyes as his powers reacted to his anger. He didn't like people making fun of him, especially doctors and whilst he was probably sure that Miyagi thought he was acting like an utter brat, he didn’t really care about what other people thought about him either, they either tolerated his frequent temper tantrums or they left.
"I'm sorry.." Miyagi struggled to calm down, still chuckling, "But... oh I have missed seeing you over the years, I'll admit."
"Ahh, I could'a done without seein' your ugly mug again." Hotstreak remarked, rolling his eyes and sinking back into the chair, casting an uneasy glance over at the blond before flinching as one of the machines beeped.
"Now now," Miyagi pretended to look hurt, though moving over to the machine to check on the stats, "No need for that."
Slouching in the chair, he began to fiddle with the bandages, his red hair falling over his eyes messily since he hadn't bothered to gel it back after getting so drenched. "Anyway," he added hastily, not looking at Miyagi as he continued to pick at the bandages that were wrapped around his arm which had become quite swollen due to the sprain "Soon as he wakes up, i'm outta' here. It's scarin' the bejeezus outta' me just bein' here."
Miyagi gave him a gentle smile over his shoulder. "... you may as well go when you would like. I doubt he will be coming to anytime today. Tomorrow, perhaps, but he seems very tired."
"Right... well in that case, i'm off. Gonna'... track down my homies." He lied, pushing himself out of the chair rather hastily before swiftly exiting the room, his sneakers squeaking on the floor as he moved, holding his injured arm close to his chest, there was no point torturing himself any longer, the doctors would make sure that Jounouchi didn't leave again.