[Action || Semi-closed] In which Lucas couldn't take the day off from work

[dj_mort]

WHO: Dean Winchester, Lucas Kovach
WHAT: Work and trouble
WHEN: October 18, 2012, afternoonish
WHERE: The garage
NOTES: Semi-closed, unless you have business at the shop, of course (ask before jumping in please :) )

[The only thing that sucked worse than going in to work after the whole Solis incident, was going in to after your co-worker pulled a knife

Comments

[100deaths_a_day]

[Dean's just trying to adjust to being out of that place. He's already figured out that it was only a week here, but it was a year there, he knew it. It's not like it's the first time time's move differently for him in a different dimension.

So he's got his head in the hood of the latest car he had to work on, hoping that if he just puts himself back into his routine, he'll be able to just get himself out of the routine he had been in. This wasn't there. He wasn't having to just survive. So.... hopefully just doing normal will get him back to normal. He knows he will not be unchanged, especially as he enjoyed that way of life (as much as one could), but... doing the best he could.

His main trouble was that he could feel it dogging on his heels. Kept finding himself reliving it, completely zoning out.

So hoping that'll pass.

But when Lucas talks, he looks up at him and nods. He's not showing any signs of noticing the nerves there, or that he was the one that put them there.] Okay, dude. You're nearly done on that, right?

[100deaths_a_day]

[He's pulled down, and there's the crack of skull on skull. He falls back and stumbles off, but it's not really the headbutt that dazes him. His empty hand goes up to his head, the gun hanging limply from the other one, as confusion hits. That... was not how it happened.

He's being grounded hard and fast, the pain dragging him back to the present.]

wh-what? [Then his eyes are drawn to Lucass shoulder. And the feel of the weight of the gun in his hand. the gun drops to the floor.] Son of a bitch. [...Did I really...?]

[dj_mort]

[The headbutt also drags Lucas from the memory. He collapsed back onto the floor, dimly aware that Dean was talking. His mind was reeling, trying to process what were his memories and what were Dean's. It was all a jumble...

No! I have to find Cas, get up you lazy asshole. I can't quit now, not now, not until we ge--

Lucas choked back a pained breath. He didn't even know who Cas was. That was someone Dean knew. The pain in his side and shoulder and back and forehead washed over him. What happened...?

He groaned and tried to get a handle on what happened.]

[100deaths_a_day]

[His brain's trying to catch up to what the hell happened, but it literally goes from working under the hood to being here. It's only the gun that was in the hand and the faint smell of gun smoke and blood in the air that's really filling it in for him.]

Sit. [He's gotta get that bullet out. and then he can worry about the rest.]

[dj_mort]

Gimmie a minute...[Lucas swallowed down the lump in his throat and pressed his hands to his face. That hurt immensely, and he hissed in pain, but he had to reign in his powers before he let Dean near him again.] I have...to get control back...don't touch me.

[Mentally, Lucas went through the well practiced steps; calm your breath, steady your heartbeat, relax your body, enclose your mind. It took a few minutes until only the pain was present. Dean's memories would have to be sorted out later.

Lucas dropped his hands from his face, and fought back tears at the searing pain in his shoulder. Then, he struggled to sit upright and leveled a pained look in Dean's direction.]

[100deaths_a_day]

[While he's waiting for Lucas to pull himself together, he gets the emergency medical kit from his car - better equipped for this kind of thing than the garage's - and a bottle of liquor. He takes a few long pulls from it before heading into the room again.

And then he crouches in front of him when Lucas is ready, putting the cap down on the floor and lifting the bottle after filling the lid to rest a needle in to sterilise it.] I'm not gonna lie: This'll sting like a bitch.

[He flushes the wound by pouring a good amount of the whiskey on it, before offering what wasleft in the bottle to Lucas It looks like you need it. He grabs the tweezers and with a steady hand digs them in carefully, grips the bullet, and pulls it out. Threads the needle with regular cotton, double threaded for strength. He starts stiching with the needle, but his eyes raise up, apologetic as he works.]

I-I'm sorry. [Yeah, he'd meant to scare you yesterday. But right now, he's just trying to get himself back to some semblance of normal and he sure as hell

[dj_mort]

[It was a good thing Lucas had that whiskey because Dean was not kdding. In fact, he couldn't decide which hurt more; getting shot or having the bullet pulled from the wound.

Lucas winced as Dean started to stitch him up. He wasn't sure how to answer the apology at first, but his usual, if somewhat resigned at the moment, sense of humor returned.]

Well, if you didn't want to be friends anymore all you had to do was say somethin'. [He even managed a grim sort of smile, at least until Dean pulled the needle through again.]

[100deaths_a_day]

[the corner of his bottom lip goes under his teeth.]

I... I don't even know what happened. [which was pretty true. He's put two and two together, but all he knows for sure is car to thinking about purgatory to here.]

[dj_mort]

I'd say you were gone a lot longer than a week. [Lucas said in a low voice. He's clamping down on so many emotions right now he was afraid of slipping up again.]

I didn't mean to look, but it was sorta unavoidable...[Despite what happened, he felt guilty as hell. He looked up at Dean.] Did you ever find your friend?

[100deaths_a_day]

[He finishes up, knotting the thread so it holds and breaking the thread off with his teeth before he answers.] A year.

[He doesn't answer the question about Cas. He did... and then he had to let go. He wasn't sharing that piece of information willingly, however.] Don't worry about it this time. [Because of the situation, that's the only reason he's not getting pissed about it. He shuts the kit after tossing the needle and thread back in.] But now you know why I said stay the hell out of my head. [Surface, Lucas. you barely scratched it.]

[dj_mort]

That's why I stay out of everyone's head. [Not that it matters what he says about that, but he still had to say it.

He carefully got to his feet, swaying a bit as his head started swimming again. He then fixed onto Dean with a steady, concerned gaze.] Snapping at me is one thing, but what are you gonna do if it's someone you actually care for next time?

[100deaths_a_day]

[Oh, he's very worried about that. He's just trying his usual tact of 'ignore the problem and it might go away'.] That's why I'm just trying to forget about down there and get on. The sooner I can get back to some kind of normal, the better. I know I'm not all the same, but... [A slight shrug.]

[dj_mort]

[And with that, Lucas just sort of shuts down. He's all out of fight and all out of fucks to give. He's sore and burned and weak and it's time to go home, collapse, and take stock of all the damage later.

He nods, numbly.] Good luck with that.

[And, unless Dean says anything else, Lucas is gonna stumble his way back to his apartment.

[100deaths_a_day]

[as Lucas leaves, he gets a] yeah [Dean having fallen into thinking mode. Sounds like you don't believe he can do it - to him, anyway - and fuck you, He survived hell, he can survive this. Or so he's telling himself. Because he has no room to believe anything else just might be the case.]